


Stefan the Bamon Shipper

by wavesketcher



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:24:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavesketcher/pseuds/wavesketcher
Summary: Before Stefan knew it, he had started a written record of 'It' – the Bonnie and Damon something or, as he secretly referred to, the Bamon chronicles. Hell, he needed to occupy his time somehow. (Or - the one where Bonnie and Damon are adorably in love but only Stefan has noticed.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Right There All the Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290426) by [devje](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devje/pseuds/devje). 



 

**A/N: This is the product of a weird day and essay stress. I also received some feedback on a creative writing piece (helpful but a tad disillusioning) and am turning to fanfic to write my worries away.**

**This is a story I am very excited about eek. Sequel to _Something There_ will be coming, don’t ya worry, I just wanted to write a chapter of this one first. **

**** HUGELY inspired by _Right There All the Time_ by devje (a very cool swan queen fanfic on A03) and good ol’ Stefan the Bamon Shipper from my first Bamon story ****

**Important things: Set after TVD except Stefan is alive, obviously, and Damon and Elena aren’t together anymore (in fact, the latter’s off travelling the world or whatever). Oh, and Damon’s still a vampire. I just love that whole vamp-witch dynamic. **

//

He noticed it first at the dinner table. Caroline had made a _perfectly golden_ lasagne (“that’s when you know it’s done, Stefan”) and the four of them were hungrily tucking into it, reminiscing over past adversaries and how, quite honestly, _fucked up_ their lives used to be.

“I definitely think the worst was Kai.” Bonnie stabbed her fork a _little_ too aggressively as she said his name.

“Or Silus,” he supplied, then frowned, “Or our _mother_.”

“Helloooo, we’re forgetting the worst of them all?” Damon waved his fork in the air above his head, “Miss Katherine Pierce.”

That earned a collective groan around the table.

“Well, we have you to thank for that, Damon,” Caroline said sweetly then laughed, “Remember when Mystic Falls’ worst villain was Damon Salvatore.”

And that’s when Stefan noticed it. The way his brother’s gaze shifted to Bonnie, as if checking her reaction before he matched it. She chuckled and Damon relaxed, just like that, back to _Damon_.

From then on, he couldn’t stop noticing It. _It_ being unidentified, or rather, undetermined. Both subjects were simultaneously the easiest and hardest of his friends/family to read. Damon’s look had unlocked something and suddenly, everything they did was worth noting.

Bonnie’s eye rolls; Damon’s barely concealed smile at said eye rolls; the touching, usually in the form of flicking, or shoving, but touching all the same, like the kids at school that flirt by stealing the other person’s pencil. They irritated each other and they _loved_ it.

_Dear Diary,_

_These past few years I’ve been committed to ensuring my brother’s happiness and recently, I noticed something. I noticed **them**. _

Before Stefan knew it, he had started a written record of ‘It’ – the Bonnie and Damon _something_ or, as he secretly referred to, the Bamon chronicles. Hell, he needed to occupy his time somehow.

 “Stefan, all we did today is go to the department store. Does that really merit an essay’s worth of diary entry?” His wife un-flaps the duvet to climb into the bed beside him. He tilts the diary closer to his face.

“I like details.”

For Caroline, it _was_ just a trip to the department store - the simple mundanity of married life - but for Stefan, it had been a _theatre_ of Bamon-ness. He takes his pen off the page momentarily, just to turn the paper, and Caroline rolls her eyes.

Noteworthy moment Number One was that Damon technically wasn’t even _invited_ on their shopping trip. Bonnie was looking for a new mattress and Caroline told him their living room was looking outdated, the couch “saggy.” His brother had called to steal him away on a road trip (“think Bourbon and brotherly bonding, Stefan”) to which he explained he was out furniture shopping with the women.

“You know you were once ‘Ripper Stefan’, right?”

“It’s what happens when you’re married, Damon.”

“Sounds awful. Have fun with Blondie and… wait? Did you say Bonnie?”

Stefan made sure to hide the smile from his words, “I did.”

“You know, I was thinking of getting a new… uh, couch too, actually.”

“Damon, you love that couch.”

“A little window shopping never hurt anyone, brother. Just assessing all the options.”

“Right. Well, we’re meeting at the Mystic Mall at two.”

“Great. See you there.”

He hung up and Stefan almost grabbed his diary right then and there.

…

Bonnie raised her eyebrows in surprise at the vampire, sauntering his way over them. Stefan _really_ had to suppress a laugh at the paper tape measure Damon was twirling in his hand.

“I never thought I’d see Damon voluntarily coming furniture shopping,” Caroline muttered.

“It surprised me too,” he lied.

His brother grinned and bumped Bonnie’s shoulder. “Miss me, Bon-bon.”

The eye roll was expected: “You wish.”

As was Damon’s bitten smile.

“Okay, so I vote we go into the bed shop first and make our way round to finish at the homeware section. Agreed?”

Stefan placed a kiss on his _adorably bossy_ wife’s head. “Agreed.”

Caroline grabbed his hand, marching into _Beds ‘n Beds_. Damon, hung back, slotting in behind Bonnie to whisper loudly enough that Stefan heard, “It’s like we’re the other married couple. Furniture shopping etc.”

“Hmm. I think we should stick to best-friends,” Bonnie replied (undoubtedly with an eye-roll).

“You’re probably right although,” his brother waltzed past him to rest on the nearest bed frame, smirk in place, “You know what they say about best friends? They have the best sex.”

At this Caroline, pivoted. “Damon! This is a family-friendly department store,” he wife paused, “It’s enemies anyway.”

Damon tapped his hand on the post. “Well there you have it, Bon-bon, we’ve been both.”

Flirting had always come naturally to his older brother. He wasn’t afraid and certainly wasn’t subtle; Stefan, on the other hand, took a more reserved approach to wooing the ladies. _Was Damon trying to woo, Bonnie?_ He glanced at the latter, her expression a hybrid of scolding and amusement. He’d need a damn psychology degree trying to figure out these two.

At least, that’s what he thought until, Noteworthy Moment Number Two (if has was being picky, if not, probably Number Five). It involved three people: Bonnie and Damon, of course, and the store assistant. Caroline had disappeared over to the other side of the room and he’d probably have trailed after her if he hadn’t had seen his brother’s face. It was… _pained._

“No, that size will be fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I’d always recommend the King size for a couple.”

Bonnie paled, shaking her head fervently. “Oh – he’s not – I’m… It’s just me.”

His brother’s jaw had clenched, almost in anger, and Stefan felt suddenly nauseous. Enzo’s death would forever scratch away at his conscience.

“She _said_ she just wants a Queen,” Damon snapped and Bonnie’s mouth tilted upwards in a private smile. One that Stefan felt out of place witnessing.

The shop assistant stumbled over his words, unnerved by Damon’s interjection.

“Asshole,” the vampire growled to the man’s retreating back.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bonnie replied but she was looking at him all softly, and _how the hell didn’t he see this before?_

The following Noteworthy Moments took the form of touches. When his brother opened the door for her, he placed a hand on her back to usher her through. When Damon rolled up his sleeves, Bonnie pulled his arm towards her to read the time on his wristwatch.

“Okay, grumpy, what do you suggest?”

“I just think you should _pay_ for the food rather than use compulsion. You have enough,” Bonnie swung her head to glare at him, “And I’m not grumpy.”

And Damon had poked her cheek, “ _This_ to me feels like grumpy.” Bonnie’s lips twitched into a smile as she called him a child and Stefan glanced at his wife as if to say, _are you seeing what I’m seeing?_

By the time they reached the home décor section, Stefan was convinced that not only his brother was in love with Bonnie Bennett, but that Bonnie Bennett was in love with his brother. Only they were completely oblivious.

…

“Bonnie and Damon are cute,” Caroline muses and Stefan almost chokes.

He glances up from his diary, “What?”

 “You know, as best friends,” she shakes her head, wistful, “I couldn’t see it at first but now… they just work together. It’s really cute.”

“Uh huh.”

Caroline places her book on the bed. “Do you not think?”

“No, no, I do. They are,” he smiles at her and she smiles back. _Phew._

If Bonnie really is what he thinks she is – Damon’s happiness – and vice versa, of course, he needs to tread carefully, aggregate evidence, work behind the scenes like a… fairy or something. _Wow, Ripper Stefan really does feel like a life-time ago._

“I wonder if they’ve ever thought about it. Like in the prison world.”

Stefan folds the diary around his pen, his wife in chat-mode. “Thought about what?”

“ _Being_ together!”

“Oh, um,” he frowns, unsure how to safely answer, “Maybe.” _Well that was pathetic._

Caroline hums. “Sometimes I still can’t believe they broke up.”

She means Elena and Damon, the power pairing, soul-mates, true loves and, until their conclusion, his wife’s _ultimate_ OTP. It had always seemed a bit unfair to himself to say the same about the couple, considering he once believed Elena to be _his_ soul-mate.

It seemed once the villains were defeated and peace had _finally_ settled over Mystic Falls, the intensity of Damon and Elena’s love dimmed. Arguments were frequent, Elena spending many nights sleeping in their spare room, whilst Damon brooded over at the Boarding House. Bonnie was off travelling and, upon her return, found the pair dismantled, her vampire best-friend thoroughly dejected. He wonders if Bonnie and Damon were in-love even then.

“It was the right thing.”

“Yeah, he seems so much….”

“Happier?”

“Definitely.” She glances up at him, “You can finish your scribbling now.”

And Stefan laughs, closing the distance to kiss her.

 

**A/N: I know this is incredibly short but a) time and b) I want to trial this idea and see what you all think. Should I continue? Do you like the title? This is primarily a Bamon story but will obviously have some Steroline. Please do review and let me know what you liked, would like to see more of etc.**

**Follow me on tumblr: _perpetualimaginings_ for updates! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m using my essay breaks to write this little story because it’s so damn cute. Definitely feels strange, but refreshing, not writing angst all the time lol.

He’s finishing writing up a, quite frankly, _adorable_ , episode - 

 another dinner where something had made Bonnie start laughing, near-hysterically, and Damon’s face drew into the goofiest grin he’d ever seen (in fact, it was so ridiculous, his brother looked more like a nerdy IT guy than a vampire) - 

 when Damon strides into his bedroom, unannounced as always. Stefan slams the diary shut as nonchalantly as possible. Luckily for him, Damon has never had any time for his diary-writing affinities. 

 “Good morning, Steffiepoo,” he smirks, obviously excited to try out this new nickname. 

 “Yeah, that one’s not happening.”

 Damon’s smirk intensifies. “Funny… Bonnie didn’t like it either”

 Stefan curves an eyebrow. “Steffiepoo or Bonniepoo?”

 He ignores the question, walking two fingers across his desk. “You seem a little on edge, brother. Did I interrupt your precious diary entry time? 

 “Nothing new there, Damon.” 

 The vampire hums. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’m heading out with Bon-bon.”

 Stefan looks at the wooden desk clock. “It’s 8am.”

 “For breakfast. Duh.”

 His fingers itch, holding the pen. _They’re going on breakfast dates now?_ Damon tilts his head, eyes narrowing in defence.

 “What?”

 “Nothing.”

 “You’re giving me that Stefan look. It’s annoying.”

 “That’s my face, Damon.”

 “No. It’s not. Your face is this,” he pulls his mouth into an exaggerated frown, furrow browed and brooding. “ _This_ one is judegy.”

 “It’s just... breakfast sounds….” he gesticulates into the air but Damon just stares blankly. “You know…”

 “No, I don’t know, _Stefan_.”

 He needs to tread carefully. “Together. It’s very… domesticated.”

 Damon blinks at him. “I’m not sure _what_ you’re trying to say, exactly, but Bon and I are just _friends_ so you can stop with that weird I’m Stefan-the-all-wise face.” He takes a breath, “You know what? You can come along.”

 And that’s how he ends up sitting opposite Bonnie Bennett in the corner of _Falls Café_.

There was a definitely a flicker of disappointment when he slid into the booth after Damon, an awkward “Hi.” He reminds himself that research is sometimes uncomfortable. The best journalists often put themselves in perilous positions and _wow_ , is he taking this too seriously?

 But the look his brother gives Bonnie after she says that Damon’s pancakes are better than the Café’s (all wide-eyed and proud) makes him think _nope_ , this really is a serious matter.

 “So, Bonnie, Caroline said you travelled to India? I bet that was incredible.” 

 She nods, “It really was. Honestly, the whole travelling experience was amazing.”

 “Do you miss it?” He asks but watches Damon. The way his head snaps up, mouth full of pancake, waiting for her answer.

 “Sometimes,” Bonnie hesitates, glancing at the vampire, “But Mystic Falls is home.”

 And Damon swallows his mouthful. Relieved, probably.  “Best place in the world,” he remarks. “Minus all the near-death experiences. Well,” he reaches across the table to steal a strawberry from Bonnie’s plate, she slaps his hand, “And actual death.”

Stefan cuts into his bacon waffles. He decides _not_ to tell Caroline about this particular delicacy. She’s been pretty neurotic about lengthening his life expectancy now he’s well... mortal. “What exactly happened in the prison world, then?’

“Nothing.” Bonnie laughs, “Literally nothing. The same exact day over and _over_.” 

“I’m surprised you two didn’t kill each other.” 

 He waits with suppressed glee for their responses: Damon’s snark, Bonnie’s eye roll. But...

 “We - er –” Damon stumbles, awkward, and it’s like he’s signed some strange contract: I, Damon Salvatore, refuse to acknowledge that I enjoy Bonnie Bennett’s company.

 “We found a routine,” Bonnie supplies, eyeing the vampire with something Stefan would need Caroline to decipher. 

 “Monopoly, pancakes, it was _great_ fun, right Bon?”

 And just like that, Damon and Bonnie slide back into banter - aka flirting - and Stefan takes a moment to check his phone. Sure enough, a text from his wife is blinking at him. 

  **Miss you.**

 A smile picks at the corner of his mouth as he types: 

  _Miss you too. Very much._

 “What are you getting all smiley at?”

 “Caroline, obviously,” Bonnie replies. “When’s she back?”

 Damon answers for him, with a sigh. “Today. It’s barely been three days.” 

 In an attempt to establish some normalcy in the girl’s eccentric lives, his wife had been taking Lizzie and Jose on a mini break to Williamsburg every month or so.  Rick’s brother lives up that way and from the pictures Caroline sends him, the girls adore it. 

 “They’re _married_ Damon,” Bonnie defends. “And like you can talk. You’ve been lovesick for the past one hundred and something years.”

 Stefan shifts to his brother in intrigue. 

 “Yes, the _past_. As in, the doppelgänger days are behind me.” 

  _Still love-sick though._

 Bonnie bites into a strawberry. “Good.” 

 And Stefan _and_ Damon both stare at her. Bonnie laughs, stilted and awkward. “I just mean it’s...”

 “Calmer?” Stefan helps, because if Bonnie Bennett is about to let slip her feelings, Damon _has_ to be ready. Plenty more diary pages to fill before that happens. (That’s not to say his shipper heart doesn’t jump a bit at the _almost_.)

 The rest of breakfast is consumed by Bonnie and Damon being well, Bonnie and Damon. After a while, he gets tired of noting all the touches, laughs, and glances and just accepts that: 

  _One._ Damon likes to touch Bonnie. 

 _Two._ Bonnie flicks him when he does, then expertly leaves her hand outstretched by his plate, waiting. 

 _Three._ Bonnie laughs at Damon. Constantly. 

 _Four._ The glances are dizzying. Also, constant. 

 _Five._ He’s going to need another diary (if the whole of Mystic Falls doesn’t catch on and trap them in a room together first.... if _he_ doesn’t).

 Stefan holds the door open for Bonnie, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how quickly Damon’s hand is also there. It would feel very 1864, _anything for you, Miss Katherine_ , if he wasn’t married to Caroline and a helpless fanboy for the Bamon cause. (He blames his wife for all the millennial lingo. She’s a die-hard Ginny and Draco shipper; he’s seen the tumblr, and once, even caught her reading smutty fanfiction, her face all red.)

 “Boarding house, Bon-bon?” 

 She hesitates at Damon’s question and he raises an eyebrow, “Come onnnn. What else have you got to do?”

 “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of you, Damon Salvatore.”

 “A boring one,” he quips, rocking on the balls of his feet.

 She chews on her lip, almost acquiescing to what Stefan supposes is the Damon Charm™, before shaking her head. “I can’t, sorry. Another time.”

 Stefan and Bonnie exchange goodbyes but when she turns to Damon, he’s frowning. “When will I next see you?”

  _Honestly, these two are a modern-day, vampire-witch Romeo and Juliet._

 Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Phones, Damon. This is the 2000’s, remember?”

 Damon shifts into a grin. “Always so sassy, Judgey.”

 “Sassy _and_ Judgey. Wow.”

 And Stefan just walks away, in his mind, the word he’s going to open today’s entry with. Short and sweet:

 Married.

 (He might add _af_ in honour of Caroline.)

 …

 Damon kicks his feet up on the couch, lifting the Bourbon to his lips because he’s slightly addicted and he really does _love_ that couch. “I guess being human is a bitch for hangovers.”

 “Pretty much.” Stefan settles on the armchair, opting for a glass of orange juice instead (“high in vitamin C” as his wife had taught him).

 “Did Bonnie seem weird at the end?”

 He’d timed it. Seven minutes. That’s how long the vampire had lasted before bringing her up. _Impressive._

 “No, I don’t think so? She just had somewhere to be.”

 At this Damon launches upright. “Yes, but _where_!? Caroline’s in… wherever she is-”

 “Williamsburg.”

 “Like I said, wherever,” his brother frowns, “Maybe Donovan? Little Gilbert?”

 “ _Or_ she just had something to do. She’s a grown woman, Damon.”

 He’s working so hard to sound casual when the words “you love her” are taunting him _constantly_. But again, he’s doing right by him, and Bonnie, to wait. Not to mention, the slow-burn is weirdly enjoyable. _Huh,_ maybe he should start a fanfiction? He swallows a smile as he realises his diary basically is. It’s true what they say about married couples adopting one another’s habits. He’s almost terrifying himself.

“You don’t think she’s… you know?”

 Stefan’s lips twitch with sudden power. “No, I don’t _know_ , Damon.”

 “Asshole. I mean do you think she’s _seeing_ someone? Like… romantically.”

 “You’re her best friend. Surely, she would have told you?”

 Damon glares at him, “She hasn’t. Why do you think I’m asking?”

  _Jealous, hostility – all great things for the diary._ “I very much doubt it.”

 “She was away for months, Stefan. She could have some sexy French dude that I don’t know about.”

 “Yes, but this is Mystic Falls.”

 Damon’s eyes widen, clearly astounded by his idiocy. “ _Aeroplanes_.”

 Stefan stands, collecting his brother’s glass and tucking it into his. “You’re being paranoid. She isn’t.”

 He’s in the kitchen, washing up, when Damon shouts, “ _French,_ Stefan. Women go crazy for that shit.”

 “Women go crazy for _you_ ,” he calls back with a chuckle. _This idiot._

 There’s a whooshing sound and his brother is in the kitchen, vamp-speeded with the urgency. “You and Caroline….”

 “Yes?”

 “How did that… happen?”

 Stefan throws both the dish-cloth and a perplexed look over his shoulder. “You know, we’ve been married for almost a year now and I don’t think you’ve _ever_ asked me this.”

 Damon shrugs, “I guess all this Mystic Falls peace stuff has made me more interested in… people.”

_More like, no Elena._

“Uh huh. Well, me and Caroline… it just sort of happened. I don’t think I even realised I was falling in love until I was.” He says that last bit, drying his cup, refusing to look at the vampire.

 “And here I was, thinking she would end up with Klaus.”

 Stefan pivots to whip him with the towel. Damon grins, “Nice try, but human Stefan is a _little_ bit too slow now.”

 “That’s it? Bonding time’s over?”

 “Short and sweet, brother. Short and sweet.” _Oh, the irony._

…

 Later that afternoon, his key is barely in the door before Caroline is hugging him.

 “Ugh, how do you always smell so _good_?” She murmurs into his neck. “Wait,” she pulls back, “is that the aftershave I bought you?”

 Stefan laughs and kisses her, soft and _wow, he’s missed her._ “Yes, it is, which is why, Caroline Salvatore, you’re especially amazing.”

 A few hours later, they’re watching television in the living room, and Bonnie knocks on the door – well, more of a loud rasp, jolting Stefan from his slouched position.

 Caroline taps his knee as she jumps from the couch. “That’ll be Bonnie.”

 “I didn’t know she was coming over?”

 “Last minute. Emergency.”

 He’s about to ask more questions when Caroline has wrenched open the front door and Bonnie is _screaming_ at her. His wife screams too and they jump up and down, clutching one another’s hands. Bonnie’s eyes are bright, brighter than he’s seen in a long time, and if they weren’t so stubborn, he’d be convinced Damon had proposed or something. _Maybe French guy proposed?_ He shakes Damon’s ridiculous though out of his head and leans against the banister, his smile a reflex. Whatever she was so happy about was infectious.

 “I knew you’d get it,” Caroline laughs, tangling her arms around the smaller woman’s neck and squeezing.

 Stefan clears his throat. “Sorry, get what?”

 His wife turns to beam at him, “The job!” She grabs Bonnie by the shoulders, displaying her proudly. “You’re looking at the new senior editor of the _Mystic Falls Courier_.”

 “ _Assistant_ senior editor.”

 Caroline flaps her hand, “For now. Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be running it.”

 He’s meant to ask how, why, when, the usual questions, even _congratulations_ , but instead all that comes out is: “Does Damon know?”

 And Bonnie falters. “No, I… I haven’t told him. I wanted to see if I got it, you know? And do it… properly.”

  _No compulsion. No supernatural._ Stefan gets it – she wanted to feel normal. A young woman with an exciting new job. It was normal. Impressive but _normal_.

 “I mean, I’m really not surprised you got it,” says Caroline, “You were offered a job at the _New York Times_ , which, by the way, I still don’t know why you turned down, but I guess it means I get to keep my best friend. And senior editor, sorry _assistant_ senior editor, sounds much better than intern.”

  _She turned it down._ Stefan frowns, “The New York Times? Hasn’t that been your…”

 “Dream, yeah. But like I said at breakfast,” she squeezes Caroline’s hand, “Mystic Falls is home.”

 He thinks of the moment Elena woke up; their lives suddenly tied up in a neat bow. Him and Caroline, Damon and Elena, and then Bonnie? She was still mourning Enzo and she left. Just like that, barely a goodbye; Damon received a text. He remembers:

  _Off to find another adventure. You deserve this happiness. Enjoy it. Thank you for everything._

She was no longer the needed witch, like he was no longer the vampire and they both had to re-invent, or rather, re-discover themselves. For Bonnie… that was escaping. But when she come home, it hadn’t seemed final, more like a stop on a longer journey. It was Damon, it was _It_ , that made her stay. Turn down New York, the world.

 And _damn_ , that thought is hitting him in the feels. _The fanboy life is emotionally exhausting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure about this chapter but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless. Writing for a couple from an external perspective is such a different experience wow. I’ve tried to have a few more laughs in this chapter so I hope the tone is okay and not jarring. Keep the reviews coming please!
> 
> P.S Stefan doing the washing-up is just a very attractive image to me idk why lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything, I want to give the BIGGEST thank you to the very generous A03 reviewer who bought me not one, but two coffees over at ko-fi. Every review etc so far has been wonderful – I’m always to excited to get typing another chapter for everyone!   
> My brain is frazzled from essay writing and I needed a break so here we are. It’s REALLY short – I’m sorry - but deadlines are rapidly approaching eek. Also… things get kind of crazy. Blame tumblr (and the SQ fic, Adventures with Cora Mills).

“No. Way.”

Stefan frowns at his reflection, his wife glaring in the frame. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it? _Literally_ everything.”

Admittedly, it is a bit on the garish side but, “Caroline, I’m pretty sure this is what every man wears on vacation.”

“Yes, forty-year olds to _Hawaii_ , not a forest break,” she huffs, snatching the shirt (or “monstrosity”) from the hanger and scrunching it into a ball. _Right, that’s a no then._

It’s a rather impromptu trip, to celebrate Bonnie’s new job: just the four of them, as Caroline had said (being the Sheriff, self-proclaimed holidays were harder to come by for Matt). And Stefan’s excited. Excited to spend time with his wife, to escape Mystic Falls, and – he tucks the diary under his folded boxer shorts – excited to update the Bamon Chronicles. He hasn’t witnessed a Bonnie and Damon interaction since breakfast _three days_ ago and now, they’re going to be sharing a _cabin_ in the _woods_. It sounds like both a romance novel and a horror film. _The vampire and the witch; I guess it kind of is._

The truth was, his shipping propensities had um, intensified. It all started the night Bonnie knocked on their door, the reveal of what she turned down… for _who_. He’d scribbled ferociously in his diary, the women drinking wine and giggling downstairs. Stefan had downed a glass before excusing himself and, after finishing the page, practically collapsed. The feels, shipping, being human – that particular night, had exhausted him. His subconscious, however, had different ideas.

//

_Silus put down his binoculars. “She’s almost at the end of the isle. Fuck.”_

_Stefan inhaled. It was time. “Call them in.”_

_His doppelgänger nodded, turning his head to speak into his collar: “Operation Bamon ago, repeat operation Bamon ago.”_

_Through Stefan’s own binoculars, Elena had just reached the plinth. He scowled, instinctive, fighting the urge to force his witch-double to poof themselves down there right away._

_“Stefan.”_

_He stood up at the voice. “Kai. Your sacrifice is appreciated.”_

_“If she can’t be with me, it has to be Damon,” the man pulled a face, “Dullena. Ugh.”_

_“Agreed.” Stefan smiled at the second voice, his mother. “Their chemistry is undeniable.”_

_“It’s true love, nothing less,” came a small squeak from his feet._

_“Ms Cuddles,” Kai shifted on his trainers, “I hope we can put our differences behind us.”_

_The bear tilted its chin, still a little salty. Stefan was grateful they **all** could. _

_“Only the Mikaelsons to go,” he murmured, glancing at his watch._

_Silus placed a hand on his arm. “Elijah’s a man of his word.”_

_“That I am.” The Originals walked towards the group in formation, a phantom wind blowing upwards… **slow-mo**. Elijah straightened his tie, “Sorry, we’re late. Klaus had an **altercation**.” Stefan was just relieved they were in costume. _

_The hybrid shrugged, “Duty calls.” He raised an eyebrow, “Tell me, how is that lovely wife of yours.”_

_“She’s fine.”_

_Klaus laughed, “So defensive. Well, do give Caroline my best.”_

_Stefan began to retort when Rebekah rolled her eyes, “I didn’t come here to watch you two boys fight over a girl.”_

_Elijah lifted his head, “She’s right, we’re here for Bonnie.”_

_“Let’s get a move on, shall we?” Klaus smirked and Stefan hesitated, looking to Silus, his right-hand man._

_The witch’s eyes twinkled, “Stefan, you’re the captain now. Give the orders.”_

“ _Okay,”_ _he nodded,_ “ _Silus, you’re the most powerful-”_

_“I’m not sure about th-”_

_Stefan cut Klaus, Kai **and** his mother off with a wave of his hand. “So, you’re going to get those of us who don’t have magic down in the congregation.”_

_“And then…?”_

_Stefan looked off into the distance, the rolling clouds, the battle ground below and said, “And then, we fight.”_

_Silus winked, flexing his fingers. “Alright, all you non-magical, not as epic,” he glanced at Stefan, “sorry boss, take my arm.”_

_Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah and Stefan placed their hand on the witch’s sleeve. Silus raised an eyebrow, “And you, Prison boy.”_

_Kai gasped, “Rude. I **have** magic, thank you very much.”_

_“You’re a siphon,” Stefan’s mother sighed. “And no, my magic is not for sale.”_

_Kai scowled. “What about the bear? Hellooooo.”_

_And Ms Cuddles gave a look so sassy, Silus wolf-whistled. “I’m imbued with Bonnie and Damon’s love, duh. I’m **practically** a talisman.” _

_“Huh.”_

_Positions assumed, Kai pinching Silus’ jacket between thumb and index finger, Operation Bamon commenced. Officially. They tore into the wedding scene in perfect time: the officiator (Aunt Jenner, the traitor) was just announcing if anyone had any objections._

_Stefan whipped his head up dramatically, and, with every eye in the congregation on him, he removed his aviators. “Hello, Delen-a.”_

_Damon blinked at him. Stefan almost smirked._

_“Cry God for Bamon, Salvatore and Bennet!” screamed Ms Cuddles, tiny stuffed arm thrust into the sky. From then, it was chaos. Kai ran to Bonnie, Klaus grabbed Aunt Jenner, Rebekah to the left, his mother to right and Elijah just stood at the side looking effortlessly cool and extremely handsome. Stefan didn’t mind, he’d always had a bit of a crush on the vampire. It was Silus who went for the couple, shooting magic to separate them. He stalked towards Damon whose eyes were wide with terror and **what the fuck.**_

_“Silus… what are you…?” He paled as the witch kept striding, an evil smile in his mouth. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”_

_“What am **I** doing? What are **you** doing?” Silus stopped, turning to check with Stefan, who gave him the Look. The wedding party stilled. “BAMILY ESSEMBLE.”_

_The group re-formed, several members slightly more be-draggled than before. Elijah, of course, just as effortlessly cool and extremely handsome. **What a man.** Kai whistled and they began undoing their shirts to reveal white tees with a single black letter. Silus glanced at the supernatural circus behind him and hissed, “Psst, Cuddles. Next to Klaus.” _

_“Oh, shit.”_

_Only when the bear was in place did the congregation gasp. Together, minus Stefan, they spelt:_

_E N D G A M E_

_That was his cue. Stefan tore off his own shirt and Elena fainted. There, in glorious technicolour, was a manip of Bonnie and Damon kissing (Kai turned out to be very handy with photoshop)._

_//_

He had woken up unsure whether to laugh or cry. Why hadn’t Caroline warned him how _obsessive_ this whole shipping business was? Either way, the dream had shifted something within him. A new desire. And yes, it was probably selfish, but he had to know, and the next hour, after waking up from _whatever the fuck_ that was, he had opened the door to the Boarding House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for the length (or lack of) but I hope you understand and had a laugh anyway. Writing the dream sequence was so.much.fun. The next chapter won’t be quite as crazy, don’t worry.   
> As always, please do review.


	4. Chapter 4

The humming drifted from the kitchen. Stefan recognised it immediately - ‘The Eye of The Tiger’, his brother’s favourite I’m-in-a _-great_ -mood song. He walked further into the corridor and stuck his head round the doorway, very amused. Damon was dancing, sliding around the floor in socks, and honestly, it was a little camp. He cleared his throat; the vampire pivoted.

“What’s got you dancing?”

Damon ran a hand through his hair, masking embarrassment with the usual sarcasm. “Just enjoying being alive – well, dead.”

“Vampire joke. Funny,” Stefan deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe. He was desperate to just ask the question, then drink up the reaction in all his shipper glee, but, unlike his dream counter-part, and eclectic entourage (Ms Cuddles included), he needed to be subtle. “Seriously, Damon, what’s happened?”

His brother quirked an eyebrow. “Your wife happened.”

“What!?”

“Relaxxxxxx. I’m not trying to steal your girl. Again.”

Stefan folded his arms. _Asshole._ “Damon.”

“She just texted me about the cheeky vacay she booked, that’s all.”

“Cheeky… vacay?”

Damon sighed, “Mini-break? National Park? Cabin? She really doesn’t tell you anything, huh?” That point seemed to please him.

“Come to think of it, they did mention something about going away last night.”

“They?”

“Yeah, Caroline and Bonnie.”

If Damon were a dog, his ears would have shot forward. “Bonnie went to yours last night?”

“Yup.”

“Huh. That’s… _interesting_. She said she was sick.”

The tension was almost too much and he had to physically bite his lip from blurting: BonnieturneddownajobattheNewYorkTimesforyou! Instead, he shrugged, looking down at his new vans (a whim purchase, highly unpopular with his wife but _hey_ , being newly human calls for some changes in style, right?).

“Did she seem okay?”

Stefan lifted his eyes. “Yeah she was… great actually.”

“Oh.”

And _fuck it_ , he went for the big guns. “I assume she told you about her new job?”

Damon’s eyes widened and clouded at once, and he would have regretted it… if it didn’t mean he could say, “Not the one in New York, the one here.”

“What job in New York?” His brother’s question was sharp and Stefan channelled his inner Elijah, effortlessly cool, effortlessly handsome.

“You know, the one at the New York Times.”

“No, I don’t _know_. Why the hell would Bonnie turn down a job there? That’s her dream.”

 _For love. For youuuuuuuuu._ Kai’s voice floated around his mind and _shit_ , that dream really did affect him. He paused, careful to make the best decision. _Or_ , the fanboy one.

“She said that Mystic Falls was home.”

And _wow_ , did his brother look damned near ready to confess his secret. His eyes grew practically spherical, unblinking, and that smile, pinching at the corners of his mouth, made Stefan damned near ready to confess _his_.

A Bamon fanfare – Silus on trumpet – erupted in his mind, all purple and red and shouts of _I fucking knew it_ from various corners, and did Caroline still have that therapist’s number?

“Why are you smiling at me?”

Stefan blinked. “I wasn’t. Why were you?”

“I wasn’t.”

_Oh, the sweet torture of denial._

* * *

“So, Damon and Bonnie are meeting us at the airport-”

“- yes, and then we have two hours before our flight.”

Caroline winces, “Sorry, manic mode.”

Stefan pulls the trunk shut. “I’m very used to it, Mrs Salvatore.”

Hawaiian shirt forbidden, diary safely packed and Bamon - he almost said that out loud, earlier - travelling from Whitmore (Bonnie had to get a referral or something from one of her old tutors), they’re ready.

“Okay, everything we need to buy when we land,” his wife doesn’t wait for acknowledgement, “Wine, red and white, good to have selection, Whiskey for Damon, blood bags, obviously, marshmallows, bagels, celery sticks-”

“Caroline?”

“Yes?”

“Airport parking lots are a bit stressful; would you mind…?”

“ _Not_ overloading you with information? I guess not.”

Twenty minutes, and two angry pensioners, later, Stefan’s successfully manoeuvred the car into a space, and Caroline resumes her mental brainstorm. Bonnie and Damon are already in the baggage line when they arrive.

“Parking was a nightmare,” Stefan says, feeling, and sounding, like a suburban _dad_. Physically, he’s still seventeen, but in moments like this, he almost forgets about all the I-was-born-in-1847 stuff.

Caroline prods the other woman’s backpack. “Wow, Bon, no suitcase.”

Bonnie shrugs, “I learned to pack light, I guess.”

“World traveller over here,” Damon smirks.

The flight desk calls ‘Next’ but he’s too busy watching his brother help Bonnie out of her mammoth backpack and place it on the conveyor belt.

…

It’s obvious Bonnie adores airports. Probably because she loves people (and Damon), and when he and Caroline return with coffees, she’s sitting on a bench playing a game of ‘Guess Where’ with his brother.

“What about them?”

Damon follows her finger and says, “Siberia.”

Bonnie laughs, “Siberia!?”

“Maybe Russia. Hard to tell.”

“Come on, play seriously.”

“I am playing seriously! People go to Siberia, Bon-bon.”

She narrows her eyes, sceptical. “Can you even fly that far from here?”

“Fine. New York.”

Damon looks at her, challenging, and Stefan holds his breath.

“New York it is.”

A heaviness drapes over them, all of them, Stefan included. But Caroline, completely oblivious, says, “Oh, now she is _definitely_ going to Paris.”

…

Stefan catches his brother in the restroom, frowning at himself in the mirror. Damon speaks to his reflection, “Does this piece of hair look grey to you?”

“Damon, you’re vampire, you can’t-”

“Grow old, yes, yes, I _know_ ,” he sighs, flapping his hand, “But explain this.”

He squints at the strand pinched between his brother’s fingers, dark as ever. “Yeah, I don’t see anything.”

Damon thrusts his face closer to the mirror, scowling and stretching his skin like a woman debating whether to get Botox. He half expects him to turn around and say “don’t you think, just a little bit to smooth out the wrinkles” but really, Damon’s just anxious. And when he’s anxious, he resorts to vanity (although actually, he quite often resorts to vanity).

“Look, Damon, I know flying isn’t the easiest for you…”

“That was _years_ ago, Stefan. I’m fine now.”

“Really? I mean, you used to compel the pilot.”

“Yes. I’m fine. Now did you come in her to shit or just stare at me in the mirror.”

Stefan remembers vividly, the first time he went on an aeroplane with Damon. His brother, usually the face of arrogance, was ashen and _shaking_.

“Damon?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I’m _fine_.”

But the plane dropped and Damon gripped his brother’s hand – actually _gripped_ it. “You’re scared of flying.”

Damon closed his eyes, “It’s unnatural. Metal things in the sky. It should be magic but it’s not, it’s science, and it’s fucking _scary_.”

There are not many weaknesses Damon Salvatore likes to admit (Bonnie Bennett being one of them) but flying, that he made explicit. He’d flown with Bonnie before, with Rick to Amsterdam, to take his mind off a comatose Elena, but he is in _love_ with her now. And Stefan is… curious, to say the least, as to whether he’ll let her in.

“You can take the window seat,” Caroline smiles, “I know how much you like to look out.”

“No, it’s okay, you have it.”

His wife raises her eyebrows, “Stefan, you have an album on your camera roll called ‘Plane Window.’ Sit _down_.”

The cabin is filling up, the flight attendants surveying the scene with tight lipped smiles, and Damon and Bonnie are shuffling into their seats across the aisle.

“No, really, I’d rather sit by the aisle,” he pauses, then adds, “I’ve got a bit of a headache actually,” which is a _big_ mistake because Caroline accelerates into doctor mode and calls a flight attendant over to ask for paracetamol.

“I wish you’d told me earlier,” his wife huffs, “Planes are a hotbed of disease.”

Stefan shakes his head, “I’m not sure about disease...”

“ _Disease_ , Stefan! I’ve read all about it.” She glares at him until he accepts and across the row, Damon and Bonnie chuckle.

“You two are adorable,” Bonnie grins.

_Touché._

The plane begins its slow shudder into life and Damon tenses, he can see it in his jaw. Bonnie does too; she touches his arm.

“Damon?”

“I’m fine.” He replies, like every other time Stefan has asked. But Bonnie’s bullshit radar doesn’t take any prisoners, clearly.

“No, you’re not. Talk to me.”

“Are you always this invasive,” the vampire grits out. The plane picks up speed, faster and faster, until it’s hurtling down the run-way and Damon’s head is pinned back against the headrest.

“Hey,” Bonnie speaks softly, “It’s okay. I get it.”

Her fingers slide into his and for Stefan, the action happens in slow-motion. Damon blinks, his hand, pale against hers, and _maybe it happened in slow-motion for him too?_

They lift off and Bonnie smiles at his brother, all warm and loving and… how is he the _only_ one seeing this?

Stefan flops back against his seat. He let her in. Just like that; he opened his fingers and she fit.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just a show on Netflix I started watching.”

Caroline laughs, “And the obsession begins.”

_You have no idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short again, I’m sorry! I’ll make up for it in the next one, I promise. In the meantime, please do let me know a) what you thought and b) any shipping adventures or Bamon moments you’d like to see our fanboy embark on. I’ve got a few more ideas but would definitely love some more input. You can always message me (anon or not) on tumblr, if you’d rather: perpetualimaginings   
> See you very soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil announcement before we begin! I have uploaded the first chapter to the sequel to ‘Something There’ – ‘I Wonder Why.’ Please do check it out and let me know what ya thought, all the love <3  
> Hope you enjoy Part I of the Forest Getaway…

 

“Well this is… cosy.”

The cabin _is_ small, smaller than they all anticipated, judging by the quirked brows and silence. Until Damon breaks it, _of course_.

Caroline waves her hand, wheeling the suitcase further inside – it collides with a clunk, into a bed. “Look, Airbnb photos can be deceptive.”

“So, they just _edited_ in a wall?”

His wife busies with the second suitcase. “Well, _no_ , I knew it was all open plan.”

Damon blinks at her in disbelief before nudging Stefan and whispering, “Someone didn’t want sexy time.”

 _He’s got a point._ “Care, it’s really…”

“Rustic,” Bonnie supplies, her gaze bright with affected optimism, but she’s scanning the beds – two of them – and if Stefan were a still a vampire, he’s certain he’d hear a raised heartbeat.

“Rustic, yup.”

“Guys, this is going to be _fun_. Like a sleepover!”

Damon flops on the nearest bed (which really is, _very_ near). “Omg so fun. Expect that two of us are married.”

Bonnie’s still hovering by the door, Stefan notices. She chews on her lip, releases, then chews again, and _she’s really nervous about sharing a bed with Damon, huh?_ It makes sense. You’re in love with someone and then… you’re sleeping next to that someone. It would hurt, if Damon wasn’t completely in love with Bonnie in return. #BamonDenial.  “I’ll take the couch, it’s fine.”

And Damon _springs_ from the mattress. “No, you won’t. I will.”

“Damon.”

“Bonnie.”

_“Damon.”_

_“Bonnie.”_

“I’m in love with you.”

“No, _I’m_ in love with you.”

(Stefan imagines those last two.)

Damon pats the bed, “Come on, get your Witchy butt over here. You need a good sleep,” he smirks, “Your eyebags are _huge_ when you’re tired.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Bonnie snarks, lobbing a cushion at his head and Caroline, who has been folding their pyjamas into the chest of drawers, chuckles at the impact. “And _you_ get even _more_ irritating when overtired.”

His brother’s eyeroll looks almost painful. “Stefan, do something useful and tell Bon-bon to take the bed. I want to go skinny dipping before the sun sets.”

Stefan clears his throat, suddenly invited into a majestic Bamon verbal sparring match and feeling very unqualified. “Why don’t you just… share the bed?” _Wow, his shipper self really jump out like that huh?_

“No way –”

“I don’t think-”

“It’s just a bit too…”

“Tempting.”

 _Tempting._ Stefan works all his face muscles to push down the grin threatening at Damon’s slip up. The raven-haired vampire has gone _extremely_ still, a patch of red pulsing on his neck. Bonnie is transfixed by her trainer.

Caroline folds the suitcase shut with satisfaction. “Damon, I’m sure even _you_ can keep your carnal desires in check for three nights.”

 _Desires of the heart, my love. The HEART._ Stefan’s raging shipper voice is growing increasingly aggressive; it’s a tad unsettling.

With the tension dissipated and Bonnie and Damon indeed, reluctantly, or rather, hesitantly, decided on sharing a bed, the latter whips off his t-shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going skinny dipping. I told you.”

Bonnie stiffens and Stefan shakes his head. “We’re not going skinny dipping, Damon.”

 “Why not? You getting a little podge now that you’re human?” He taps Stefan’s stomach and Caroline frowns, instantly protective _because yes, maybe he is getting a little podgier but his wife thinks it’s adorable and ‘gym lads are heart breakers’ (cough, cough Tyler)._

“He’s perfect,” she says firmly and as Stefan blushes, Damon gags. _Hypocrite._

Caroline curls an arm around his waist, he smiles down at her, content with this cabin, his love (and the promise of Bamon™, which, observing them now, flicking one another with Damon’s towel, looks _very_ promising indeed).

“What do you propose we do instead then, brother?” He smothers the woman’s face with the towel, pulling her backwards on the mattress with a yelp. Even Caroline’s eyes flicker at the sight. There’s no interpretation or shipper goggles required; it’s just _flirting_ , plain and simple, and Stefan wants to memorialise every detail in his diary – then, throw it under Damon’s nose.

“How about a walk?”

Bonnie yanks herself free, laughing, a grin in her gaze, her mouth, her words. “Sounds great.”

And Damon, enraptured by her glow and wild hair just nods, spellbound. Stefan’s heart clenches - shipper style.

…

The Park is nothing short of magical. Sunlight, although cut sharp between trees, falls in waves over their feet and to Stefan, it feels as though he’s wading through it.

“You’ve got a little happy smile,” Caroline whispers, her hand curled in his.

“How could I not be happy? This is beautiful.”

She hums in agreement.

“Calling all slow-coaches, repeat, calling all slow coaches… you might want to come and see this.”

He chuckles at Damon’s shout but hurries anyway, tugging on his wife’s arm.

Bonnie turns to her friend, wide eyed and electric. “Care, it looks just like that picture!”

They peer at the scene, together, and Caroline squeals. “Bonnie! It’s almost _identical_.”

The men (man and vampire) wait for an explanation, intrigued. Below them is a lake, turquoise, shimmering, and scattered with pine trees stretching beyond their sight. _Magic, again._

“What picture?” Damon asks, because he’s extremely impatient.

Caroline grins, “When Bonnie and I were younger we used to make a scrapbook called ‘Future Caroline’ or ‘Future Bonnie’, and we found this picture of a lake –”

“- Like this one!”

“- _Just_ like this one, and Bonnie said that this was where she imagined having her first date with her husband.”

Bonnie looks to the water, a smile. “High standards, clearly.”

And Stefan. Nearly. Ex-plo-des.

The lake. Bonnie. The husband? Damon. Her fairy-tale surrounds her and sure, he’s got fangs and she’s been killed a few times to get to it but _this_ – Stefan takes out his phone and captures the scene: Bonnie and Damon leaning over the edge, his brother’s hand hovering protectively in the air, ready to catch her, or, ready to push as Caroline gasps and Bonnie is flying, falling and landing with a resounding splash and an echoing laugh – this is the picture.

“DAMON!”

 

“Sorry,” the vampire apologises, not sounding sorry at all.

 

But a sudden blast knocks him off his feet and he tumbles after her, the smirk wiped cleanly from his face.

 

“My name’s not Witchy for no reason,” Bonnie quips, staggering towards the bank. Stefan reaches forward to offer his hand, yanking her upwards.

 

“Still don’t regret it,” Damon sing-songs. He runs a hand through his soaked hair, an impish grin. “The wet look is sexy on you.”

And Bonnie sends her magic hurtling, manipulating the water into a wave. “Wipeout,” she smiles, turning her heel on the middle finger protruding out the lake.

 

…

 

“Wait, no! It’s Katherine! It’s Katherine! Look there’s her-”

 

“It’s not Katherine!”

 

“Yes, it is!”

 

“Caroline,” Damon growls, “I’m the artiste, therefore _I_ draw. _You_ guess… Differently.”

 

“Well whatever you’re trying to draw looks a lot like Katherine so… wait! Is that!? I know who it is! OMG! I know who it is! It’s, it’s-”

“Andddd time’s up,” Bonnie sings, waving the egg timer in the air.

“Seriously Blondie? That was a fucking disaster.”

It’s the most intense game of Pictionary, Stefan’s ever played. Multiple rounds, multiple pairings. Damon’s got some elaborate score system going on, that confuses everyone else, and gets very snappy when people tally wrong. He’s snatched the marker out of Caroline’s hands several times, who, being a control freak, has snatched it right back to dot an ‘i’ or finish a line. His brother and wife on the same team certainly makes for an interesting dynamic.

 “I’m _sorry_ , but the high heels really threw me off.”

“They were meant to be hybrids! You know mini ones, following Klaus around.” Damon pinches his fingers in an impression, looking oddly like a feeding squirrel.

“Well I see that _now_ ,” his wife snaps back.

“Whatever. Bon-bon, you’re back with me.”

Stefan mock groans, “Don’t leave me with Caroline,” to which his wife scowls.

“I’m just having a bad run today.”

“The worst. Now, Bon – to the board!” Damon makes an aeroplane sound as he passes the pen.

“Gladly,” she grins, winking at his brother who blinks, a little startled.

They’re all a bit wine-d up; Stefan and Bonnie more so, the room just tinging to fuzzy, his mouth hanging in a permanent lazy grin. Not drunk (Caroline whisked the bottle away before that could happen, stamping her foot down on the possibility of a hangover – “I’ve booked three activities tomorrow!”), but tipsy. Definitely.

Damon squeezes between Stefan and Caroline on the bed, snapping open a blood bag and emptying the contents into his mouth. The sight makes Stefan nauseous.  “Take it away, my Queen,” his brother drawls. And defending Stefan’s look says, “What? She’s the Queen of Pictionary.”

 _And your heart._ Stefan imagines Silus giving him a hi-five for that one.

“Oooookaaay,” Bonnie muses, the marker hovering over the page, “I’m ready. Go!”

Caroline turns the timer and Bonnie animates, attacking the paper with fury. Damon erupts in guessing:

“Stefan! Wait, no hero hair. Um. Kai! It’s Kai! The fucker. But… There’s another person? Like a sidekick!? Elijah and… his suit? I don’t know! –

“- Ten seconds –”

“DRAW Bonnie! Good… That’s me! That’s me and that’s…” She finishes off with a Witch’s hat, a triumphant grin.  “Okay, that’s adorable.”

Damon is beaming and no one seems to have noticed that the timer has ended and he never actually verbalised the image: Damon and Bonnie… holding hands. Kind of. If Stefan squints, they definitely are.

His brother leaps from the bed, flips the page to his PhD level statistics, makes a few markings and determines that he and Bonnie are the winners.

“Pretty sure I could have told you that,” Caroline huffs.

Bonnie whoops and Damon collects her in a hug, spinning around the tiny space in a blur and Stefan’s heart clenches, _again_. _This trip needs its own diary._

“We should take this national, Bon,” his brother grins.

“Pictionary Championships?”

“All the major cities. Phoenix, DC, Seattle, Chicago, L.A…”

_Say it, Damon._

“… New York.” His tongue folds around the word, annunciating each syllable. Bonnie’s expression tenses.

“Stefan told you, didn’t he? That I gave up New York.”

Damon straightens and Stefan struggles to breathe. Even Caroline is silent. “He did.”

“And does that… _bother_ you?”

 

“Why would I want you to move to New York?”

 

“Why do you keep bringing it up?”

It’s frightening, how quickly they can shift. One moment laughing, the next staring at one another, the tension so heavy it’s almost palpable.

“I’m just surprised. You never liked to stay in one place.”

Bonnie’s eyes widen, a realisation, and Damon’s brow drops, trying to intercept the thought. “Is this about me leaving? After Cade, all of it. Stopping the hell-fire.”

 

“No.”

But it sounds like a yes, to Stefan, to Bonnie, and definitely to Damon.

Caroline squirms beside him, uncomfortable. “We’re gonna go for a walk. Leave you guys to… talk.” She grabs Stefan’s hand, lifting up from the covers but Bonnie shakes her head, her eyes sharp.

“It’s fine. I’m tired, anyway.”

Damon plays with the longer strands at the back of his head, shifting on his feet, clearly unsure what to do next. Stefan _knows_ his brother, and although not impartial to the occasional brood, Damon’s always preferred to just get it all out quickly. The claws, the bite, the blood: erase. With Bonnie, he’s in love and tentative and whilst _she’s_ scared of saying too much, he’s scared of fucking up.

_What’s a ship without a bit of angst anyway?_

…

A couple of hours into sleep, Stefan awakens. It’s not a dream about Bamon _exactly_ , but he’s robbing a bank with Silus and Ms Cuddles so the influences are there. Snoring drifts from the opposite side and he props up on his elbows to inspect the scene. At the sight, his mouth falls open, and he grabs the diary, fumbling under the pillows for his pen.

Squinting in the moonlight, he just about discerns his words, scribbling in feverish delight. His fanboy is unapologetic at night-time.

“What are you doing?”

Stefan drops his pen. _Shit._

“Writing in my diary.”

Caroline frowns. “You wrote in it before bed,” she checks her phone, “It’s 4am, what could you possibly have to write now?”

 _Words, Stefan. Use your w o r d s._ His eyes flash to the other bed and Caroline follows. Her eyes round, flicking between him and the pair. Damon’s arm is tight around the woman’s frame, and Bonnie’s leg is sprawled, thrown over the vampire’s with ease.

“That Netflix series… the one you can’t stop thinking about. It’s not a series at all is it?” He’s sweating, his neck too hot and he pulls at his t-shirt, avoiding her stare. Caroline sharpens. “Give it to me.” She lunges for the diary and Stefan lifts it out of reach, forgetting for a moment, his wife’s vampiric abilities and his lack thereof. Caroline prizes the book open, swatting Stefan’s hands aside.

Bonnie stirs and Stefan glares at his wife, “Shhh!”

“Okay, okay. I’m being quiet. Let’s see…” she begins to thumb through the pages. Stefan folds his face in the covers, utterly shamed.

_“Dear Diary, Damon and Bonnie were very domestic today. The bickering is so affectionate: Bonnie’s laced with a superiority which my brother believes he can match. Below are some exam-”_

“Stoppppp, please.”

Caroline shakes her head. Slowly. “My husband is Bamon trash.”

Stefan winces. “They just… make each other happy. I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

Caroline lets out a breath, “No one ever does.” She flashes him a moonlit grin. “Welcome to the world of shipping. Strange to see it happen in real life though…?”

“Right.”

The silence throbs with Stefan’s question. He needs to ask. He _has_ to now. “So… do you?”

“Do I…?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

Caroline’s grin morphs into a smirk, _evil_. “No, I think I need you to say it, Stefan Salvatore.”

Stefan closes his eyes. “DoyoushipBonnieandDamon?”

“Hm?”

A sleepy mumble interrupts his second attempt. “Save the pillow talk for when we’re not sharing a room, please.”

And like a couple of girls in a sleepover, they shrink under the covers, suppressing their giggles. _Welcome aboard, Caroline Salvatore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are extremely encouraged. They make my day! Suggestions for this story are also welcomed ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Stefan is just tucking into his muesli, highly nutritious, (and now no morning feels complete without it, because being human really is all about stable breakfast cereals and monotony), when Damon saunters onto the porch. His hair is wet from a shower and his smirk _wide_.

“This is the life, hey brother,” the vampire sighs, folding his arms over the railing to inspect the forest scattering beyond the cabin.

“Sure is.”

“The girls are watching _Dance Moms_.” Damon makes a face, “I will never understand popular television, Stefan. Ever.”

Stefan spoons a large mouthful of muesli. Truth be told, he’s watched a fair few episodes himself.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

He hadn’t _meant_ to blurt it out like that, bringing Bonnie and Damon’s… entanglement into the open, but it’s never too early for shipping and watching his brother’s smirk fall off his face is always a pleasing experience.

Damon turns back to the trees. “Wonderful.”

“And Bonnie is… okay, now?”

The vampire doesn’t respond. Stefan probes again, “She seemed pretty upset before we went to bed.”

His brother flaps his hand. “Tomato, to-mah-to, brother. Water under the bridge.”

 _Or, Damon under Bonnie’s leg,_ Stefan thinks and this time, it’s Kai who presents him with an imaginary fist bump.

The door is flung open and Caroline emerges waving a cartoon of orange juice. “Morning Damon, you looked cosy last night.”

She winks at Stefan and he pales, burying his stare in the muesli, expecting her to be a tad more subtle. Then again, his wife and brother were easily the most ‘extra’ people in his life. It is all fun and games, Caroline hitching a ride on the Bamon ship, but that doesn’t mean she can expose them with the first comment. That isn’t how this thing works… it’s all about the slow-burn. _A baking metaphor: that will help her understand._

“I’m sorry?” Damon lifts an eyebrow.

Stefan shakes his head and Caroline clears her throat, “Nothing. I just guess I’ve never seen you in a bed be-…. Oh, yup, I have.” She gives a tinkly laugh that’s _so_ Awkward Stefan’s sure he sees a bird take to the sky, half-wishing he could do the same.

Damon flushes a startling shade of pink and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, we… let’s not rehash that, Blondie.”

“Right.”

There’s a heavy pause and his muesli is soggy so he prods at a bit with his spoon, aware that both Caroline _and_ Damon are watching the movement. Another bird flies away. _Good idea._

And then, Bonnie pokes her head out and punctures the tension, just like that.

“I’m gonna go for a run, anyone in?”

“Me!”

His brother’s response is thoroughly _un_ -shocking but no less satisfying.

Bonnie scans the porch. “Just Damon?”

“Just Damon,” Caroline smiles.

They watch as the vampire and the witch depart, figures shrinking into the distance. Bonnie’s cackle carries and his wife sighs. “God, they’re perfect… How did I not see this before?”

Stefan begins counting on his fingers. “Elena, near death experiences, Elena, more near-death experiences… Elena _and_ near-death experiences.”

Caroline’s laugh is bright, “Okay, very true. There were a few obstacles, but now…?”

“Now it’s just Damon and Bonnie getting in the way of… Damon and Bonnie.”

His brother is a serial saboteur and Bonnie, she lives her life in the shadows, forever supporting, forever denied. They both, in a strange way, believe they don’t deserve the other. Stefan sees it in Damon’s hesitance and furtive glances, Bonnie’s dismissal and suppression. A Good Thing… it seems too rare, too delicate for their scarred hands.

“They’re in love and it terrifies them.”

Caroline looks at him. “I hope you’ve written that in your diary.”

* * *

The first event of the day is rock climbing. On an… actual rock. Stefan glances upwards and frowns. It’s high, really, _really_ high and he’s a fragile human now and very much enjoying said human existence.

“I think I’m going to sit this one out,” he announces, quite content to watch his vampire wife effortlessly scale the wall, much to the surprise of the spotty twenty-something tightening her harness.

“Pussy,” Damon calls.

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Ignore, Stefan. I understand. I didn’t think about you being erm… physically challenged when I booked it,” she pauses, “If it’s any consolation you look gorgeous in that plaid shirt.”

He’s always loved how brazenly his wife presents compliments. Even before they were together, Caroline would say entirely sincerely how good he looked on any particular day and every time, it sent a plunging warmth.

“I love you,” he smiles.

“Stefan always rocks a good plaid shirt,” Bonnie grins. She’s tugging on the ropes, her hair swept back into a low bun, evidently a seasoned climber.

“Um, hello, I started the Salvatore plaid shirt club.”

Bonnie tucks a foot into the cliff. “It’s not a competition, _Damon_.”

“Everything is a competition, Bon-bon,” the vampire retorts and knocks her trainer out the way, assuming the crevice and beginning the ascent.

“Dick.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Damon, you’re disgusting,” Caroline sighs, pressing against the rock herself.

“ _Damon, you’re disgusting_ ,” his brother mimics. Stefan notices he’s stopped climbing. _Can’t be too far-away from Miss Bonnie Bennett. Must remain in suitable banter – flirting – distance at all times._

“Okay, guys just take the-”

“This might be hard to hear but newsflash, the world isn’t thinking about your penis every second of the day,” Bonnie quips, interrupting the poor climbing instructor.

Damon leaps from the wall, landing behind the woman in an instant, placing his hands by her head and caging her in. Caroline throws Stefan a delighted smile.

“Be careful when you just jump-”

“It’s not hard to hear, Bon, it’s hard to _believe_ ,” Damon smirks, the instructor interrupted _again_. Stefan’s beginning to feel very sorry for the guy.

“Please, the lady doth protest too much.”

Damon quirks a brow, “Think what you will, Judegy, but the truth can’t lie.”

“I’m sorry but the subject of your genitalia is boring me _so_ ,” she reaches up the rock to find a grip, “I’ll meet you at the top.”

The vampire laughs and matches her pace, _almost_ \- most likely, because Stefan knows his brother, to stay in prime butt-viewing position. The three begin their crawl, looking like strange, wittering spider monkeys, and Stefan bites back a laugh. _Did they really just discuss… that?_

The climbing instructor has given up trailing them, acquiescing to their pro-status or, perhaps, to escape the, sometimes explicit, sexual tension. Pete sighs, Stefan reads the name on his back, and lands with a thump on the clay. He claps his hands together, releasing the chalk in a puffy cloud and says to him, “Those two are totally in love.”

Stefan makes a note on his phone:

Totally in love – _Pete the Climbing Instructor, 27/06/2018_

* * *

“Do you think she knew they were sleeping like that?”

“Bonnie?”

“Yes, obviously.”

Stefan throws his gaze across the water where a laughing Bonnie is spraying Damon with water. They’re in tandem Kayaks, bobbing about the lake in a state of serene bliss sullied only by Damon’s growls at being splashed.

“I bet they both did.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Damon, _definitely_. He woke up, as we know. And your arm doesn’t accidentally end up around someone’s waist. They were spooning, Stefan. It’s ridiculous.”

In the last few hours, it has dawned on him that his wife does not share the shame Shipper Patience and _craves_ the happily ever after effective immediate. He tried the baking metaphor, explaining how both participants needed to be well cooked before coalescing in vamp-witch harmony but Caroline was unimpressed.

“Stefan, now that I’ve seen _them_ , I want Bamon babies. End of.”

“You know that’s not possible right?”

“Before you came along, I thought vampires were impossible and look… I’m seventeen, _still_ , with two beautiful non-biological siphon twins.”

She had a point.

A couple hundred metres away, Damon gets his revenge, sending a wave of water the woman’s way and drenching her. “Damon!”

“You started it!”

Caroline taps her nails on the plastic vessel, impatient. Stefan sighs. “It’s got to be natural. We can’t intervene… not yet, anyway.”

“But what if we’re _meant_ to intervene!? What if that’s the only way they’re meant to be together?”

Stefan ponders over this. “I just think when the time is right, we’ll-”

“Sh!” Caroline’s hand is on his mouth, halting his sentence. “They’re talking about New York.”

“Again!?” It comes out in a mumbled squeak.

His wife nods, her eyes wide and intense, vamp-hearing catching on the conversation. “Uh oh. She just threatened to jump out and swim. Damon is saying she’s being over-dramatic. Bonnie has-”

Stefan turns just as Bonnie disappears, plunging into the lake. Damon stands, so suddenly that the kayak lurches and he wobbles, struggling to gain his balance. “Bon… come on! Bonnie!”

She’s pushing through the water, away from him, and even from this distance, Stefan can hear Damon swear… right before he dives in after her. The vampire tugs on her leg and Bonnie flails, hitting his arms to let her go. Damon curls around her frame, folding her into his torso, like he had done last night.

“He’s mad,” Caroline mutters.

Stefan agrees, marvelling at his brother’s relentless attempt to contain a slippery Bonnie Bennett.

“Damon, I swear let me go!” She shrieks.

“Not happening,” the vampire pants.

They’re closer to his and Caroline’s kayak now, moving with the current.

“I’m not letting you drown, Bon,” Damon grits out.

“I can swim you idiot,” Bonnie snaps but her actions have slowed, nearing lethargic and with a breath she sags against him, exhausted.

Stefan blinks at the image: Bonnie and Damon bobbing up and down, like two embracing otters he remembers from a David Attenborough documentary.

“It’s okay,” Damon says whispers, stroking her hair and _is she crying?_ Stefan looks at his wife, wide eyed, and her alarmed expression confirms that yes, she is, and Damon is _comforting_ her.

“Hey, gawkers! Fancy giving us a hand?”

They animate instantly, embarrassed, and begin to row towards the floating pair. Bonnie releases the vampire, looking anywhere but the approaching kayak, clearly, embarrassed too.

It’s a squeeze but they clamber on, Damon throwing the other woman tender, concerned, smiles. Their entwinned hands are noted upon. Caroline has to physically bite her lip from commenting, Stefan’s certain. Nearer shore, they tumble out, his wife curving an arm around Bonnie’s shivering shoulders and rushing her back to the cabin for a “dry down and some new clothes”. Damon helps him carry the boat to the hire shack in silence.

The vampire shakes the wet from his hair and Stefan searches his expression for comprehension. Whatever happened in the lake was _serious_ and it was near killing him not knowing.

“Well that was… _intense_ ,” he chuckles.

Damon just frowns. “I don’t think we realised how much we screwed her over, Stefan.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s… she’s Bonnie. I want her to have the world.”

The words send his mind in a flurry of squeals and – _calm it, Stefan._ He nods for Damon to continue, keeping his Fanboy under lock and key, however hard his brother was making it.

“I fucked up and told her to take New York. Do I want her to leave Mystic Falls? Of course not,” Damon shakes his head, “I just want to have the best life she possibly can. After everything. I don’t want her to feel…” he gesticulates, “I don’t know, _tethered_ , to us after all the witchy saving our asses shit, we made her do.”

Stefan waits for his brother to proceed, his heart near throbbing.

“She told me she didn’t want to be alone… after Enzo. And I said she could find someone else… that she _deserves_ someone else. She thought that now we didn’t need saving, we didn’t want her. That _I_ didn’t want her. How fucked up is that?”

“Pretty fucked up.”

Damon glares at him, “Wow, helpful. Thanks, brother.”

“No, I just mean…”

What does he mean? That Bonnie is hopelessly in love with him and turned down New York because Damon is her person, her _everything_ , how happy he makes her and she him, how they just _fit_ , messy and beautiful, the vampire and the witch, always colliding, forever entwinned.

Damon slow claps, “Inspiring, Stefan, _really_.”

“Look, Bonnie wants to stay in Mystic Falls. It’s her choice, not ours. If she wants to stay, embrace it.”

His brother squints at the horizon, suddenly looking so small in his damp shirt and black skinny jeans, that Stefan hugs him. Damon flinches before accepting, albeit briefly, connecting with Stefan’s shoulder with several tense pats.

“I need a bourbon.”

Stefan nods. “Agreed.”

They amble up the path in thought. Damon, no doubt about Bonnie, and Stefan, the Bamon Chronicles and how his entry for today has taken an unexpectedly angsty turn.

_The life of a shipper is not for the faint hearted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really was an unexpectedly angsty turn oops. Unintentional but here we are. The lols will be back next update, I promise.   
> The biggest shout out and thankyou to the generous soul buying me coffees over at ko-fi. I’m at a loss for words but please know you have made me very, very happy.   
> Please continue to review – I love them.   
> P.S I wrote a one-shot where Damon meets Regina Mills from OUAT. If you’re familiar with that show, I would love for you to check it out. I had great fun writing my two favourite characters together…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this makes you chuckle!

The thing is, it isn’t just _cute_ anymore. Bamon’s awkward tension has become more than just something to sigh over in the pages of his diary – it’s _painful_. They’re hurting each other.

_Dear Diary,_

_The time has come to hatch a plan. Bonnie and Damon are proving to be self-destructive; action must be taken before they detonate, leaving me to eradicate the fragments of shrapnel piercing their –_

“Seriously, Stefan?”

“What? I like to be poetic.”

His wife rolls her eyes, “You’re telling me! You had to insert two extra pages into our anniversary card.”

“I like words.”

She slides an arm across his torso, humming into his ear, “You like _love_.”

_Also, true. Combined, it’s… a little obsessive (to say the least)._

“So, what did she say?”

“She… laughed.”

“What!?”

“It was a nervous laugh,” Caroline backtracks, slightly flustered by Stefan’s sudden outrage. “She just said, ‘That’s ridiculous’. Well,” she bites her cheek, “she _actually_ said, ‘what the fuck, Care!?’”

He pushes a hand through his hair, “That’s… _shit_.”

“I mean, what did you expect her to say? ‘Yes, Caroline, I am in love with Damon.’”

Now, he swivels completely, fixing the blonde with a look of terror. “You asked her outright!?”

“You told me to find out!”

“Yes, but _secretly_. Emphasis on secret.” Stefan lets out a sigh and Caroline’s hands fly to her hips (their favourite position).

“Don’t sass _me_ , Mr Salvatore. You know I can’t do subtle.”

She glares at him so fiercely that he mumbles a sorry before turning back to the diary, thick with blue ink. He flicks the page backwards, musing over yesterday’s entry, his brow furrowed.

“We need to look at the facts.”

“I agree.”

“Every time, New York is mentioned, they fall apart, we know this.”

Caroline pulls out a chair to sit beside him. They’re in an empty café; the barista’s keep throwing them wearied glances. “And every time, Bonnie gets upset, Damon apologises and the following day, they’re back to banter. Almost.”

Stefan hums. “The only logical reason for Bonnie to react like that is because, as you know-”

“She feels like Damon only wants her around when she’s needed… _and_ because she’s in love with him.”

“Obviously.”

There’s a moment of pause as the couple scan Stefan’s lilted cursive.

It’s been a week since the Cabin Trip, and yesterday, they reunited. Bonnie had gone to stay with her mom very shortly after their return, reducing Damon to a lost puppy pining after a woman he knows he keeps upsetting but, being Damon, can’t seem to find an exit. Bamon’s electric dynamic, had definitely dampened (no pun intended) after the moment in the lake. They were tentative, exchanging niceties like colleagues, not soulmates, and when the vampire said he was taking the sofa bed, Bonnie didn’t object.

And _yesterday_ …

 

The brothers were playing _Mario Kart_ , on a games console Damon claimed just ‘fell’ into his cart at Target, when Bonnie walked past the couch into the kitchen. Damon jolted from the screen to follow her with narrowed eyes, sending Princess Peach flying into the galactical abyss. When he resumed thrashing Stefan’s ass, his mood had soured.

“I need a drink,” he announced, crossing the line with ease. Stefan had just overtaken Donkey Kong, achieving the impressive rank of 11th.

“I’ll join you.”

In the kitchen, Bonnie was leaning over the counter-top, glass of red in hand, and chatting quite gaily to Caroline, who was pouring tortilla chips into a bowl. Damon swept his arm across the island to snatch a chip. Bonnie pushed away.

“Boys, what can I get you to drink?”

Damon regarded Caroline with a lazy smile. “Got any AB’s?”

 “In the fridge.”

His brother yanked opened the left side. “Where…?”

“On the right,” Bonnie said coolly.

Damon snatched the bag. “And here I was thinking my presence triggered a vow of silence. My mistake.”

“Hilarious.”

The vampire just poured the contents down his throat. The phrase, _you could cut the tension with a knife_ , came to mind.

“Well-”

“Yeah, so-”

Both Stefan and Caroline spoke at once and shared an awkward chuckle. “It’s lovely to have you back, Bonnie,” he finished.

“Yes, cheers to Bon-Bon.” Damon lifted the emptied bag in the air. His sarcasm was very, _very_ evident.

“For fucks _sake_ , Damon! I told you I had no signal!”

Bonnie’s eruption threw them all off kilter. Damon even looked stumped, albeit momentarily, giving a very rabbit-in-the-headlights esque expression.

“You can’t expect me to just be at your beck-and-call,” Bonnie continued, “and then get pissed when I don’t reply.”

“Things were weird after the mini-break, Bon! I wanted to know if you were okay. That _we_ were okay.”

“I told you I’m not going anywhere!”

“You said that before.”

Bonnie’s face contorted, assuming a sort of delicate surprise, no, _guilt._ Stefan glanced at Caroline’s equally intrigued expression.

“Damon, you know I had to-”

“You didn’t even say goodbye. Not really. I got a text,” his voice raised, “A fucking _text_ , Bonnie! After everything we’ve been through.”

“I’m sorry I-”

“Everyone always leaves. I didn’t ever think you would.”

“If you’re so attached me then why don’t you just say thank you!”

“For what?”

“For New York. For me choosing _you_.”

His brother stilled. Stefan did too. “I…. thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bonnie snapped and gulped down half her glass.

To say the remainder of Wine and Games night was strained, would be an understatement.

 

Caroline traces her finger around the rim of the coffee cup. “Why don’t we set them up on a date? Do the whole ‘meet me at 7pm at blah blah’ and then have Damon show up?”

“Would they even treat it as a date though? What’s to stop it just being friendly or well… argumentative?” _They really are particularly fiery at the moment._

“Not if they dress up! Damon could be in a suit? It’s basically impossible to resist a suited Salvatore.”

“No, no, it’s got to be more than lust. It’s _love_ , Care. We’re just waiting for the fireworks moment.”

She readies herself for a protest when a young waitress shuffles over, announcing her presence with a limp cough.

“Um guys, you’ve been here for um almost three hours now. My manager says you need to purchase another drink or you need to-”

Stefan fumbles around in his pockets, “Keep the change,” he says, placing the notes on the table. The waitress blinks at them.

“I don’t know if you’re trying to bribe me or…?”

“Look, _Lisa_ ,” Caroline sighs, reading her label, “We’re in the middle of a very important operation, right now-”

“Yeah, okay, I just need you to order another-”

“Do you have any idea how stressful it is being responsible for your best friends love life?”

“Okaaay, I think maybe you should leave.”

“My husband here has worked tirelessly on this… this _thesis_ … and we are on the cusp – the _cusp_ , Lisa – of a happy ending. Do you want to take away the happy endings, Lisa?”

“Can you stop saying my name, please.”

“It’s on your name badge?”

“Whatever, just leave. Now.”

Stefan touches his wife’s arm, “Let’s go, Care. We can finish this later.”

“No, wait a minute, Stefan. There are laws against this kind of thing. Where in this café does it say we have to leave after a certain period? It doesn’t. I would like to speak to a manager, please.”

The manager, Gavin, round bellied and thoroughly unamused by his wife’s protests, trudges over, takes one look at Caroline’s sweetened smile and asks them to _please_ leave the premises. It is, all in all, a very humbling experience.

“This is what happens when you’re a _moral_ vampire who doesn’t stoop to compulsion. I mean, really? Banned for _life_?” Caroline snaps, glaring at the café door that Gavin shut with _much_ gusto.

Stefan sighs. “You _did_ call Lisa a minimum wage-earning spineless child, Care.” His wife really could be a savage when provoked.

The blonde blinks, “Upon reflection, that _might_ have been a bit much.”

He laughs, pulling her in for a hug. “You’re mad, Caroline Salvatore.”

And with the Bamon Chronicles heavy in his right palm he thinks, _I am too_.

* * *

It’s 9am. Caroline had the girls' last night so he decided to sleep at the Boarding House (he still finds being home alone difficult after that traumatic experience perpetually drowning in a coffin, _yes, really_ , for three months). He slept well, had his muesli, then trudged back upstairs to write in the diary. Well, he had _intended_ to but, worryingly, the Bamon Chronicles seemed to be misplaced.

“Explain. Now.” The vampire flies into his bedroom to slam the book on his desk.

_Oh, shit._

It’s foolish to ask if he’s read it: Damon’s face is scrunched in fury, his eyes boring laser holes into Stefan’s. _Oh SHIT._ What can he say? That he’s become so invested in Damon and Bonnie’s relationship that he’s been writing diary entries documenting their interactions? That he secretly thinks of himself as the Bamon Captain? That he’s even started a private playlist on Spotify named after them?

“I’ve been… shipping you,” he mumbles, feeling strangely nauseous.

A pause.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Stefan pushes a hand through his hair, his collar growing sticky with perspiration. “You know… when you see two people with a lot of erm… chemistry… and you start to want them… together.”

Damon’s gaze hardens.

“Caroline’s been in on it too.”

“Again, what the _fuck_!?”

Stefan shakes his head. “Believe me Damon, I didn’t mean to get this consumed but… now you see, don’t you?”

“See what!?”

 _Here goes._ “That you’re in love with her.”

“Of course, I’m in love with her!”

_Well… that was unexpected._

“What?” he looks from the diary to his brother, diary, Damon, diary, Damon. “I mean, I know _I_ knew, but when did _you_ know? And why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I was going to tell you today! And then I found your weird stalker thing-”

“It’s not a stalker thing. It’s called the Bamon Chronicles.” _Because I might as well go full out_ _exposé._

Damon’s eyes round in horror, then disbelief, then… disappointment. “The… _Bamon_ Chronicles.”

 _Okay, maybe all cards on the table wasn’t the best idea._ Caroline had taught him that the art of shipping was playing it cool at first – don’t let people see the inner crazy until you’ve determined them a sympathizer.

Stefan shrugs. “It needed a name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be honest with you all, I was really losing motivation for this story. Writing this, I was reminded why I started this little fic in the first place. I hope you enjoyed this update. Your support really does make my week. Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Just a strange PSA: I’m English and when I refer to pants in this chapter, I mean male boxers. The context is an English phrase and I’m not sure the US equivalent, oops.   
> ANYWAY, happy shipping and giggling ;)

“Dear diary, Stefan told me to write a –” Damon groans, “Do I have to?”

“Yes!”

“This is so weird. You know, that right?”

The married couple blink at the vampire, expectant. Damon groans again.

“Fine. Dear _diary_ , Stefan told me to write a list about why,” he grits his teeth, “why I’m in _love_ with Bonnie Bennett.”

Caroline erupts in a squeal and Stefan squeezes her hand in support. Damon looks murderous but continues, sounding very much like a child forced to make an apology.

“Reason number one: she smells nice. Reason number two: she has a nice ass. Reason number –”

“Seriously?”

Damon growls. “Stefan, you told me to write a list. I wrote a list. Then you told me to read out my list. This is me, _reading_ out my list.”

Stefan folds his arms. He’d given Damon the previous night to compile his list, requesting it in diary form (of course) with the understanding that he could glue it into _the_ Diary as Class 1 evidence for the Bamon cause… or, trial. What with Bonnie in denial, it seemed a strong case was going to need to be presented – with his brother on the prosecuting side. “I didn’t come here to listen to you list what you find physically attractive. You don’t fall in love with someone because they have a nice _ass_.”

The vampire scoffs. “Erm, I think you can. In 1952 I remember this one girl had-”

“Oooookay, and we don’t need to know that,” Caroline interrupts, “Thanks but no thanks. Stefan’s right. You’re scared to admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are _too_.”

His wife leaps from the couch and _almost_ swipes the page from the other vampire’s grip. Damon pivots in triumph. Unfortunately for him, Caroline is aggressive… particularly when shipping is involved. She launches with a war cry and the page is ripped from his brother’s hand.

“Awwww there’s 34 reasons. Shit _me_ , Stefan you’re going to die at reason number 16: When she smiles, I get a swooping feeling.”

Damon sinks on the couch next to Stefan in defeat. His usual icy pallor is tinged by an alarming pink. Stefan studies him in delight, musing over how to best describe the exact shade in his own diary. _Maybe Taffy or Bubblegum?_

“Reason number 23: She makes me laugh more than anyone in the world. Okay, you’re _killing_ me.”

_No… Rose._

“Damon Salvatore. This is the most adorable thing I’ve ever read. Like I’m actually dead. I cannot. ‘I want to be the one to make her smile.’ Like ARGH!”

Damon jumps at Caroline’s inarticulate expression of shipping bliss.

“Reason number 33: I never want to be in a world without her. Please stop. Like actually stop. It’s too much. It hurts. It physically _hurts_.”

His brother frowns. “What the fuck? You told me to write the list.”

“No,” Stefan touches his brother’s arm, “she doesn’t actually want you to stop. It’s just what people say.”

“The _fuck_.”

“You have a lot to learn, brother.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow at Caroline’s garbling. _Clearly number 34 is too much._ “Evidently.”

Stefan readies himself. “What does it say?”

“What does what say?”

If not for the paper falling from his wife’s fingers, the room is frozen. Damon looks in need of an airplane bag to vomit in. Bonnie narrows her eyes.

“Um are you guys okay?” She laughs awkwardly at the silence. “The door was open, I let myself in. I er-” Her eyes flicker down to the piece of paper and Stefan almost passes out. “I was bored at home. Am I… interrupting something?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing.”

“We gooood.”

“In the hood,” Damon finishes lamely. All three have adopted plastered smiles.

Bonnie sighs. “Is this about games night? Because if it is, I’m sorry. I was just… I don’t know, angry, I guess.”

Damon leaps at the opening. “Yes, it’s about games night! That was very… immature behaviour Bonnie.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

And just like that, Bamon are ignited. The simmering flame of hate, flickering into love, the passion. Stefan would be lying if he said it didn’t thrill his internal, now very _external_ , fanboy… perhaps if he was being _really_ honest, even more so than the ‘fluff’.  Butterflies and I-want-to-be-the-one-to-make-you-smile is cute and all but _this_ – the undressing daggers, the anger – cue his own inarticulate shipping noise. _Jdcsjljcdjsiofjofj_

“If you’re upset with me, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up when we’re having family time.”

Stefan’s eyes flicker to Caroline. She mouths something that looks remarkably like ‘MARRIED’.

“Well, I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Bonnie snaps sarcastically. “Clearly, someone hasn’t grown into their big boy pants and likes to hold a grudge.”

Damon chuckles, “Oh please, like you could handle my big boy pants.”

“Oh yeah?”

His brother smirks. “I don’t think you realise, Bon-bon, just how _big_ , my big boy pants are.”

Caroline is blushing now and Stefan feels suddenly very uncomfortable considering that this _is_ his brother, and clears his throat in attempt to diffuse the _um…_ sexual tension.

“You always say that, Damon, but really I think it’s you that couldn’t handle it.”

 _Well that failed._ His brother swallows and Bonnie grins, victorious. “I’m going to get a drink.”

She turns on her heel and the room exhales. Caroline bends to collect the paper.

“That was… intense.”

“Very.”

They glance at the vampire, his eyes a little glazed. “Damon?”

He shakes his head, mechanically. “I can’t take it anymore. What’s the plan?”

* * *

It’s seven pm and Damon is fidgety. It’s a rare sight; Stefan’s used to calm and collected, the bad boy, not the nervous first date jitters of a man – vampire – standing before him.

“And you’re _sure_ she likes these flowers because last time I gave her flowers, she slammed the door in my face.”

Stefan flicks a piece of lint off his brother’s suit. “Well, that was because you abandoned her and decided to desiccate. Pretty justified.”

“She’s going to do it again. I can feel it. She’ll be all ‘what the fuck, you can’t buy my affection with flowers.’ Go all feminist on me. Probably hit me in the balls.”

“Stop overthinking,” Caroline snaps. “There is not one girl in the world who wouldn’t swoon at you standing at the door in a suit with flowers,” she glances at Stefan, “I mean, not me, I definitely, that would be… er I… I just mean it speaks to that… innate fairy-tale part of ourselves. Besides, you’ve already brought her affection. She just needs a nudge to realise it.”

Damon blows upwards, shifting the black strands against his forehead. “You two crazies better be right. I’m trusting you here.”

Stefan smiles reassuringly. “The diary hasn’t lied, Damon.”

“You keep _saying_ that but women are really fucking confusing, Stefan. They say one thing and mean another. What if all the touching or looks of whatever you’ve been documenting are _just_ looks and touches? What if-”

“Are you going to knock on my door or what?”

Damon curses. “Fuck Bonnie, again!?”

The woman swings out of the upstairs window, “I was checking for my pizza delivery. I thought you were the Dominoes guy… Are you wearing a _suit_?”

His brother pales and Stefan stiffens, pressing against the front door with Caroline to avoid Bonnie’s gaze. He kicks Damon’s shoe to prompt a reply.

“Yup. Fancied a change from all that… black.”

“Your suit is black.”

“ _Actually,_ it’s a very dark navy.”

“Seriously?”

Damon hesitates. “No.”

Bonnie’s laugh is bright and even in the shadow, Stefan discerns a fluttery smile flirt with the corners of the vampire’s mouth.

“I’m coming down.”

 _Move. Move. Move._ Hands entwinned, Stefan and Caroline practically dive into the nearest hedge, folding between the twigs, heart thumping. Damon ogles them in disbelief but there is no way _in hell_ they’re missing this.

The lock turns and Damon thrusts the flowers behind his back. Stefan feels his wife take a breath.

“Hi.” Bonnie’s smile is shy and maybe Caroline is right, the suit thing. _Irresistible._

Damon replies softly, “Hello Bon-bon.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “If those are flowers behind your back, Salvatore, I might melt.”

“Really?”

Bonnie smirks. “Hmm there might have been a time.”

“When?”

“In the very beginning. When I thought you were the sexiest man to ever grace Mystic Falls.”

And Stefan joins Caroline in inhaling.

“What changed?”

Bonnie shrugs. “I got to know you.”

“Ouch. Someone’s been sharpening their claws today.”

She hums, playful and… _flirty_? _Women are quite confusing._

“Well?”

Damon finds the rhythm, assuming what Stefan supposes is his smirk. “Do you promise not to slam the door in my face?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Caroline grips his hand as Damon lifts the bouquet from behind his back. Bonnie is silent when she takes it, a tentative smile, still a little unsure. His brother looks to the bush Stefan and Caroline are crouching in before speaking, “Bon… Bonnie. I… Fuck, I feel so nervous. I’m actually shaking.”

“Damon, wait.”

“No, Bonnie, I need to say this.”

“Just hold on one-”

“Please, Bonnie. I need to.”

“No, seriously, Damon, wait a minute, the pizza guy is here.”

All company turn to the path, where a spotty teenager is ambling up it, like they’re in a bloody rom-com, Mr Dominoes functioning as the comic relief before the big love declaration. Damon has gone _very_ still. So still that Stefan genuinely fears for the pizza guy’s life.

Bonnie rushes past the vampire, slippers and all, to take the box. “Thanks!”

“No problem.” The teenager squints at Damon in the doorway, “You going to prom or summing?”

* * *

“Okay, let’s look at the positives?”

Damon slams his fifth bourbon on the table. They’re in the Grill, trying to console an extremely despondent vampire.

“And what would they be, Blondie?” he growls.

“Um she took the flowers?” his wife smiles, albeit unconvincingly.

Truthfully, the whole encounter was a bit of a disaster. Damon had stormed off, not before snatching the bouquet from Bonnie’s doorstep. Naturally, the other woman had been extremely confused and, after the pizza guy had said ‘the fuck dude?’, and Damon had held him, suspended over the grass by his red collar, was furious.

“Do you always have to act like a child!?” Bonnie shouted.

The pizza guy scootered off, frazzled and compelled never return, and Stefan had cramp in his left leg from crouching in the bush.

Damon yanked at his tie. “Enjoy your pizza, Bonnie.”

The woman had stared after him in disbelief for a few minutes before retreating back into the house. Caroline and Stefan crept quietly, finding Damon seething at the wheel of his Camaro.

“I’m going to the bar to drink. A lot.”

They’d agreed as long as they could chaperone.

“Damon, you just need to try again, that’s all,” Stefan swallows, “I think… I think maybe the whole suit and flowers thing was a bit much. Too much pressure.”

“She’s impossible,” the vampire speaks to his scotch, “I was delusional to think it could work. She’s _Bonnie_. I’ve hurt her too much.”

Caroline touches his brother’s hand. “Hey, we’ve all hurt each other.”

Damon lifts his eyes. The sorrow pooling in them clenches around Stefan’s heart. “What will the Bamon Chronicles say today: Tragedy. Ship sunk.”

He resists the urge to praise him on his shipper terminology. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Ugh, you just have to say that so you don’t sound like a dick. How the fuck is any of this _okay_?”

“Because,” Stefan braces himself, “I’m going to show her the diary.”

And the vampires’ mouths’ drop open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnn. Dramatic ending! Hope this was okay lovely readers. I didn’t have much of a plan for this chapter and just rolled with it. We’ll get some good ol’ Stefonnie friendship moments next update yay (which may or may not be the last ahh). 
> 
> Review, review, review. They make me the happiest!
> 
> P.S I’ve also started a fic that I’m REALLY excited about. Very loosely inspired by Aladdin; picture Bonnie as a mysterious Queen, Damon as a peasant boy masquerading as a prince and Kai, a slightly evil, power-hungry wizard dude trying to manipulate him = ‘Let Your Heart Decide.’ Support is a little lower for that one so if you’re interested, I’d love for you to check it out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed a distraction from anxiety and figured maybe someone out there might need it too. Sorry this is so short. I am falling asleep as I type oops but wanted some fluffy Bamon feels. This chapter is another comedic one, hope that’s okay.

“Psst. PSST.”

Stefan swats the sound away with a groan.

“STEFAN,” the sharp hiss retaliates.

Groggily, he lifts an eye and _what the fuck._ Miss Cuddles’ plastic eye is glowering at him, thoroughly unamused.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Stefan’s not sure he can answer seriously. Not when there’s an actual stuffed bear talking to him. He pinches his arm – _nope I’m awake_. Miss Cuddles purses her stitched lips in discontent: “Do you _have_ a voice?”

“Uh.”

“Caveman. We can work with that.”

Stefan blinks at the bear. “Is this _real_?”

“As real as you want it to be sweet cheeks.”

“Well that… clears nothing up.”

The bear heaves an elongated sigh, as if Stefan is _the_ most annoying soul on the entire planet and being stuck with him is a tortuously arduous ordeal.

“Look, _clearly_ you all need some help. This Bamon Ship isn’t going to fly itself,” she pauses, “Don’t look at me like that of course it flies. It’s got fucking wings, Stefan.”

“Wings. Sure, I, uh, I can roll with that.”

Another pointed stare before the bear elaborates, “I’m going to take you on a trip down memory lane.”

It’s only then he realises where he’s sitting: some strange, sterile room, blinding white and uninhabited but for him and… Miss Cuddles.

_Holy fuck, I’m dead._

Stefan begins to shake.

_I’m dead. This is some sort of purgatory. Unable to fulfil my true purpose of uniting Bamon, I’m sent here. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“You’re not dead, drama queen.”

He lifts his head. “I’m not?”

“No, I’m pretty sure you just took some of those Witchy herbal things from Damon’s stash. Not your finest moment but it was either you take them or him. He’s over there, getting high on a gazillion blood bags.” She jerks a paw over to a glistening white door. “You messed up. Damon drunk called Bonnie, told her he loved her. Well, he actually said he loved her ass. She got mad, _what’s new_ , but then things got _really_ bad. Bonnie showed up at the Mystic Grill, asked Damon what the hell is going on, he insisted, very drunkenly, that he loved her and poor old Bonnie got so very upset. She told him not to mess her around like that, that it hurt too much. Shit me, it was emotional. She stormed out; Caroline followed. Damon went on a spiral and you, evidently, have joined him.”

He waits for bear to finish her monologue, unsure whether to clap. He settles for a vague eyebrow lift instead, still not entirely convinced that he isn’t in the pre-afterlife.  

“Do you trust me?”

Stefan looks at her outstretched paw, and suddenly feels very much like Jasmine about to hop aboard a magic carpet.

“Would you _like_ a magic carpet?”

He frowns at the bear. “Stop reading my mind.”

“I _am_ your mind, dumb-ass.”

Now _that’s_ trippy.

* * *

A flash. Light collects and reforms around him, morphing and sighing into a new shape. Miss Cuddles tugs on his jeaned leg: “You ready?”

They’re in the school corridor; there’s a beat before the bell rings, the doors fling open and teenagers pour out like a caged swarm, whooping and hollering. He spots the man in a leather jacket immediately, tilting his head to talk to a curtain haired brunette.

“Impossible,” Stefan breathes.

“Says the former vampire,” Miss Cuddles mutters, “But _that’s_ none of my business.” She mimes sipping a cup of tea.

“We’re backing in time.” His face breaks into a grin as he inspects his younger self, “We’re back in fucking time!!!”

“Um, I did mention Damon’s _stash_ , right?”

He shakes his head utterly elated at the prospect. Miss Cuddles taps her foot, “Look, considering I’m the only one in your brain right now with an inch of sense – which is saying something as I’m _literally_ a talking teddy bear – I’m going to set us on track: we need to find The Moment.”

Stefan’s gaze follows his counterpart. The vampire grazes past him, oblivious; Elena looks smitten already.

“Right, so this would be about episode three-”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Miss Cuddles winks at an imaginary camera. “Today, is the day of the dinner party. Elena wants you and Bonnie to get along right? So, she’s arranged a dinner.”

Stefan’s eyes widen, “And Caroline and _Damon_ come over.”

“Exacccttttllyy.”

He frowns. “So, what do we do? Just wait around until dinner time?”

“Well, that would be the logical thing to do… if anything of this real and I couldn’t just clap my paws and fast-forward.” She laughs.

Stefan joins in, albeit a little stilted. “No, come on, I mean seriously.”

Miss Cuddles stares at him for a good few minutes. “You know when I say herbal things, I mean _drugs_ right?”

* * *

They’re crouched behind the island in Elena’s kitchen, witnessing perhaps the most awkward dinner party to end all dinner parties. Stefan frowns at the three teenagers and whispers to his stuffed accomplice, “Tell me why I’m kinda shipping me and Bonnie?”

“First of all, back off big guy and second of all, because Bonnie has chemistry with everyone. Fact.”

They slip back into silence, cringing under the room’s strange tension. Then, the doorbell rings and Elena stands. “I wonder who that could be?”

Upon hearing Caroline’s voice, Hallucination!Stefan follows Elena to the door, his face screwed into something concerned and constipated. _I see what Damon means now._

Stefan prods the bear in the ribs… well, the stuffing. “Um, why are we hiding? They can’t see us.”

“I was trying to add to the _drama_ of it all,” the bear trills, rolling her r’s with the gusto of an Italian, “but _fine_ , you need to see his face anyway.”

He’s about to ask ‘who’s face’ when Damon strides into the kitchen and _ah, that face._ Bonnie shifts awkwardly in his stare, a delicate blush flowering on her cheek. She tucks a loose curl behind her ear, her eyes flickering from the table to the vampire uncomfortably. Damon swallows; Caroline folds an arm around his waist, and Elena’s presence distracts him. _Just._

“Did. You. See. That.” He grabs at the bear’s arms, twirling her in the air.

Miss Cuddles screams bloody murder. “Put me down you great oaf!”

“She took his breath away! I saw it. His eyes _froze_ – just like this!” He imitates a deer in the headlight’s impression and the bear, brushing the stress of being thrust 6ft in the air off her fur, chuckles.

“Told you.”

“Love at first sight.”

“ _Alrightttt,_ Romeo, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

He pauses his fangirling. “Seriously?”

“ _No._ Love at first fucking sight, my friend, love at first _fucking_ sight.”

The renewed dinner party whirs into life before them. Damon’s gaze anchors on Bonnie between bites of cheesecake; Bonnie slips glances at the vampire with every sip of her water.

“How did I not see this before?” Stefan marvels. “It’s so obvious.”

Miss Cuddles sighs, “Presenting, ladies and gentleman, Elena all-consuming Gilbert. This little lady wrapped both you idiot Salvatore’s around her finger.”

“Hey!” Stefan protests, “I was in love! Hasn’t there ever been a Mr Cuddles?”

The bear blinks at him. “Did you just _assume_ my sexuality?”

“Er…”

She waves a paw, “You were born in the 19th century, I get it. The question is, what have you learned?”

 “That I shouldn’t assume anyone’s sexuality?”

“ _No_ , well, yes, but – fuck _me_ , you’re slow – what have you learned from _this_ ,” she gestures to the dinner table.

Stefan begins to sweat. He hates these kinds of questions, the pressure to say something intellectual, even when he’s answering a blessed _bear_ in his own supernaturally drugged out mind.

“Stefan.”

Caroline is glaring at him from the dinner party. _Actually_ him, not Hallucination!Stefan – he’s turned around to glare at him too. Damon has opened his mouth in a cackle.

“Stefan,” the blonde snaps again, “Wake up.”

Elena’s kitchen is melting; his brother opens his mouth wider like a black hole, inhaling the room. He fumbles in the air for Miss Cuddle’s paw. Caroline shouts his name and everything shakes, compressing as the bar begins to shift into place - there’s Damon’s twitching hand, Alaric helping to pull him up, Caroline filling another glass of water to dunk over his head. Miss Cuddles slides from his grip; Stefan stares at her panic.

The bear inclines her head and whispers, “Make her see what she’s known all along.” She disappears with Caroline’s second drenching.

With the bear’s final words echoing in his ears, and the diary in his hand, like a Jehovah’s Witness ready to convert, two days later, he knocks on Bonnie Bennett’s door. What he _doesn’t_ expect to see is this lazy smile of his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what that was haha, but I had great fun writing it and I hope, whilst reading, you did as well. Life is strange but Bamon is escapism– I’m so grateful to this wonderful community, thank you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed some more distraction and fanboy Stefan is my safe place. Hope you enjoy the final chapter. It’s a long one…

First, he was going to sneak into her house. That part was easy apparently, a quick flick of an unwound safety pin and _ta-dah_ , the back door swung open and the vampire waltzed into the kitchen. He’d helped himself to a beer, chucked a few blood-bags in the freezer for good measure, and settled on the couch with the Kardashians. It was 5:00pm: Bonnie had an early finish on Mondays.

“The _Kardashians_?”

Damon shrugs. “Everyone has their reality show weaknesses, Stefan.”

_True. I’m obsessed with Bamon._

He lowers onto the couch with a sigh. “So, you really thought just waiting here for her was a good idea?”

“Not just me… look,” Damon gestures to the coffee table, “Monopoly.”

“You broke into her house to play _Monopoly_.”

Damon’s eyes harden. “And you knocked on the door to show her your creepster novel- apologies, _diary_ – because _that_ won’t freak her out.”

The younger Salvatore folds a hand over his forehead, easing the prickling of a headache with his fingers. “The bear told me to make her see what she’s known all along.”

“The bear?” Damon’s eyes enlarge slowly, horrified. “You don’t mean Miss-”

“Bonnie’s here!”

“No, she’s not.”

“She is, I can see her car.”

“That’s my car you idi- oh, _fuck_ , Bonnie’s here.”

Stefan calculates they have about thirty seconds before the key starts shifting in the lock and Bonnie Bennett is welcomed home by not one but two Salvatore’s. Damon, being a) supernatural, and b) extremely unbothered by others people’s discomfort, barrels him, vamp-speed, behind the curtain.

Stefan collides with the opposite wall in an oomph; the front door clicks shut. Small heels snap across the laminate and Damon’s face creases in a smirk, “Hey, Bon-bon.” Then, he’s blasted backwards.

“Ouch, what the fuck-”

“What the hell are you doing!?”

Stefan catches her expression through a tear in the material – morphed in shock and irritation. Damon pushes up from the floor with an eye-roll, stretching out his limbs, rolling his neck.  

“I wanted to play Monopoly. _Duh_.”

“You know most normal people _text_ , right? Not break into the other person’s house!” She twists her arms across her torso. “I haven’t heard from you in two days.”

Now, at least, his brother has the decency to look a little ashamed. “I thought you were upset with me.”

Bonnie huffs. “Of course, I was upset with you! You drunk called me to the Grill and told me you _loved_ me.”

“Do you _not_ want me to be in love with you?”

Her response is a beat later. “What are you doing here, Damon?”

“I told you, I want to play Monopoly. Like old times in the prison world,” the vampire gives a wonky smile, “Bonnie and Damon, the super team.”

From behind the curtain, Stefan grins like a mad-man, high on _all_ the feels at his brother’s words. Bonnie tightens her arms.

“I need you to leave.”

“Come _on_ , you’re just scared I’ll beat you.” He pats the cushion next to him; Stefan shifts to try and fit them both in the eye-hole.

“Damon, I’m tired. I don’t have the energy for your mind games.”

“How is Monopoly a mind game?”

“I don’t mean Monopoly!” Bonnie’s voice comes out high and taught. “I mean what you said before.”

_Damon...tread carefully._

“Oh… you mean about me being in love with you?”

“Stop that.”

_Dammit._

His brother blinks. “Stop what?”

“Stop saying it like that.”

“Like _what_?”

“Like you mean it. You’re saying it so seriously, I can’t… Just stop.”

Damon stands, takes a step closer. “But I do mean it. I am.”

The space between them numbs with a long silence and Stefan _can’t breathe._ When Bonnie speaks, it’s quiet. “You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know.” And, pausing in the doorway, she adds, “Tell Stefan I can see his shoes.”

* * *

“I’m moving to London. I’ve had it with American women – they’re infuriating heartbreakers.”

“Stop being so dramatic. You can try again.”

“Why do I always have to be the chaser? Stefan’s said she’s in love with me too. Why am _I_ doing all the work?”

“Because she’s scared. You were Elena’s _soulmate_ … she can’t risk going after something if she thinks it might not be reciprocated.”

“But I told her it is!? Do I need to say it in fucking French?” There’s a pause, “Actually, that might be kind of hot.”

“No,” Stefan interjects, making his wife and brother turn, “No French. We’re going back to my plan.”

Damon groans. “She already thinks it’s one big joke. You and your fucking loafer shoes. You breathe like Darth Vader anyway – she probably saw the curtain moving.”

They exited Bonnie’s sheepishly, Stefan offering a ‘sorry’ up the stairs before closing the front door and cringing on her porch. Damon was in instant agreement: Caroline. They needed a female translator.

“Damon, you can’t just tell a woman you’re in love with them like you’re ordering scotch at the bar.” His wife places a tray of cucumber slices on the counter and flicks Stefan’s shoulder as if to say _eat up, this is healthy._

The vampire scrunches his nose at the delicacy, and sludges off the kitchen table to bury it in the freezer drawer instead. “I’ve tried the whole suit and flowers shit. The pizza guy, remember?” He rips open an AB positive. “I’ve tried romantic, I’ve tried casual… I’ve tried drunk.”

Caroline winces at the memory; Stefan feels the ghost of a paw on his arm.

He almost smiles as he says, “But we haven’t tried _real_.”

* * *

Stefan’s generous in giving her time. Two days of torture, staring at the chasms of white space in the Chronicles that Damon and his flawed attempts have created. Caroline tried to barter for a week – Stefan’s eyes near popped out. The time for waiting, for love-sick, for unrequited Shakespearean adoration is over.

“Believe me, I want Bamon as much as the next girl but Bonnie needs some time. You’re bombarding her.”

“Care, Damon has been watching Storage Hunters on repeat. How long before he snaps back into vampire Damon and you know, _eats people_?”

“I can hear you, dickhead.”

Stefan turns on the kitchen tap. “I’m going to arrange to meet her tomorrow. I have to.”

* * *

Bonnie had, reluctantly, given him the thirty-minute slot of her lunch break and, the following afternoon, Stefan is sitting on a bench in the square, sick with nerves. The pages of his diary flutter in the breeze, exposing a slanted cursive Damon teases is Victorian and feminine (to which Stefan retorts that they learned to write in the 19th century, and that he’s secure enough in his masculinity to be a little effeminate from time to time – Damon laughs harder at this).

_This is it.  The final chapter. To sink or float._

The witch draws nearer, smart in a pant-suit and red heels. She plonks down next to Stefan without a word and begins unpeeling her banana.

He clears his throat. “Er, thanks for meeting-”

“I’m still angry with you.”

Stefan blanches, “I know, I know, I’m-”

“Hiding in my house was really weird.”

His stomach swells unpleasantly. _If she thinks that’s weird…_ “I know, I’m sorry. I… I want to show you something.”

With shaking hands, Stefan lifts the Chronicles onto his lap. Bonnie lifts a brow, “Your diary…?”

“Actually, it’s kind of _your_ diary.”

“You got _me_ a diary?” The corner of the woman’s mouth kicks up in amusement.

“No, no, I… just… just read it.”

“Now?”

He nods.

“Ooo-kay.” She takes the book from his lap and turns to the first page. Stefan tenses, terrified of watching her yet unable to stop. Bonnie flicks, again, then again. Her eyes jump from line to line, brow weighed atop her stare.

“This is why he came to my door, right? In a suit… with flowers?”

Stefan makes a strangled sound in confirmation. Bonnie continues to read with silent, un-telling eyes.

After several long minutes, his hands are clammy, he needs to know… “Bonnie?”

She snaps the diary close. “My lunch break’s almost over. I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”

Stefan watches her walk away, his ears echoing with the slam.

…

Lizzie and Josie are in the kitchen when he returns home. They pounce on him, squealing with shouts of _Uncle Stefan, Uncle Stefan, come play with us._

Caroline, an apron and flour in her hair, chuckles, “Girls, careful. He’s not Uncle Damon.”

Stefan ruffles Lizzie’s hair. “Hey, sweetheart.” He lifts his next question above the girls’ heads. “Is he here?”

“No, he went back to the Boarding House,” she bites her lip, “It went badly, didn’t it?”

“Stefan! Come onnnnn,” Josie tugs on his right arm, pulling him into the living room. He looks up at his wife – nods his head.

“Give her time,” she says again, and then he’s yanked onto the carpet and told he’s a dragon-slaying Prince.

* * *

The days yawn and build and eat away. Lizzie and Josie clatter about the house in a frenzy – overjoyed with spending some time with Mummy and Uncle Stefan in the town they were kept away from. He tries to forget and savour these moments of a mismatched family with his beautiful wife and her giggling daughters. But every hour, he’s checking his phone. Waiting. Bonnie and Damon are MIA: even Caroline hasn’t heard anything bar a tag on a Facebook meme.

The guilt is exponential.

  _Maybe I should never have got involved?_ Miss Cuddles, Kai, Silus, all of it. That’s a lot of pressure. Like always, he’d made a mould for her, an expectation. Bonnie the functional, the chess piece.

On the fourth day, his phone rings.

“She’s going to New York.”

Josie’s knocked over his tea and Lizzie is screaming with laughter. Stefan locks himself in the pantry.

“Bonnie!?”

“They still had the position available. She’s leaving tomorrow,” Damon’s voice thickens, “It’s over, Stefan.”

He calls him back, again and again, and every time it cuts to the sarcastic tenor of his voicemail: “You’ve reached the one and only Damon Salvatore, lucky you. If I can be bothered to call you back, I will.”

Stefan curses; Lizzie flings open the pantry door in triumph. “Found you!”

…

“Bonnie wants us all to see her off at the airport.” Caroline looks up from his chest, “Damon included.”

It’s a hollowness: defeat. A drowned boat – what might have been. Stefan tries to smile, “That will be nice.”

His wife touches his chin, “He’ll be okay.”

“Will you?” Amidst the crushing devastation of his former obsession, he hadn’t stopped to think how Caroline might be feeling.

“I want her to be happy,” she says firmly, “She’s done so much for all of us – I’m pleased she’s doing something Bonnie.” She falls back against his torso, arm circled around his frame. “That’s not say I won’t miss her… or be flying out every couple of months for cocktails in Manhattan.”

He kisses the crest of her head, inhaling the scent of home. “Will the girls be coming?”

“Ric’s in town for a few days to visit some old colleagues. I asked if he could take them for a Daddy-Daughter day.”

Stefan slides his fingers through hers. “I’m sorry.”

“This is her decision, Stefan,” she squeezes his hand in hers, “All you did was show her the truth.”

_And the truth hurts._

* * *

Damon grips the steering wheel in stoic silence – only the buzz of the radio cuts between them all. Bonnie is sitting with Caroline in the back, her legs folded, gaze firmly on the highway ribboning past them. Stefan watches his brother check the overhead mirror, watching _her._

They stand, collected, on the sterile white of the airport floor as Bonnie checks her suitcases. Damon is stiff beside him and it hurts, it _all_ hurts. Caroline rushes forward first, thrusting her arms around the smaller woman’s neck. Stefan shuffles after her. Bonnie touches his arm, a watered smile.

“Goodbye, Stefan.”

He hugs her, as tight as his wife had done, scared of letting her go, aching for the brother standing behind him, losing his love. Again.  They release and Bonnie exhales. Damon stays rooted.

 _Hug her,_ Stefan’s screaming. _Go after her, DO something._ But she’s walking away, the rumble of suitcases stretching away from him. Then:

“Bonnie.”

She turns and Damon moves, just short of vamp-speed, to catch her hand, pull her in. Stefan’s breath hitches.

“I have to do this.”

And then they’re kissing, pouring into one another. It’s electric and several vacationers stop to stare – one even drops her Harry Potter neck pillow, eyes fixed wide in wonder. He’s witnessing a damned rom-com except this is goodbye not hello and _fuck_ , he’s crying.

“Stefan?”

He screws his eyes shut but more tears leak out. As Caroline takes his hand, Bonnie pulls away. She licks her lip, ducks her head and turns, leaving Damon, empty in the centre of a small crowd of heartbroken spectators, standing just as stunned.

…

No-one speaks as they walk back to the car. Stefan, who is still trying to quell the lump in his throat, offers to drive. Damon shrugs, his gaze on the tarmac. He opens the passenger door for his wife and turns on the radio. A tinny pop tune crackles into life.

“We ready?”

Caroline nods into her hands.

_Anyone would think she’s died. And I’m the one with the bloody diary._

“Damon?”

He twists in the driver’s seat, unnerved to see that his brother too, has his head in his hands, shoulders trembling. _He’s crying. Fuck, Damon is actually crying._ Stefan can count on his fingers the number of times he’s seen his brother cry and almost all of them are before they were 10.

Caroline’s shoulders are vibrating too – his wife and brother wracked in soundless sobs. “Care?” He touches her hand, his voice soft.

“I’m sorry, I just… Damon… we have to…”

_Is she…?_

“What… what’s going on?”

“ _Damon.”_

She’s not crying, she’s laughing. Caroline’s laughing and… Stefan catches his brother’s red face in the overhead mirror. _They both are._

“I don’t understand? Why are you-”

And then he screams. An…. _effeminate_ one. The woman at the windscreen cackles. Caroline can barely breathe and _Damon_ …

Stefan yanks open the driver door and falls out into the car park. Bonnie is clutching her stomach in pain.

“It hurts, it _hurts_.”

His wife and brother pour out of the other doors, their laughs rebounding off the neighbouring cars and _what the fuck is going on_.

“Your face, Stefan,” Bonnie wheezes.

“Your _scream_! I didn’t know I had a little sister.”

Damon’s comment makes Caroline near collapse on the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to stop but… shit, you guys this was genius.”

It takes a second for his brain to register that Bonnie should _definitely_ be in check-in right now, not wetting herself with his other family members. “Okay, what the fuck is going on.”

Damon pushes his face into composure – _just_. “We wanted to give you an epic first entry.”

“First entry? What?”

“For Volume Two: Bamon – Official,” grins Bonnie.

_Holy. Shit._

“You’re not going to New York.”

She shakes her head.

“This was all…? The kiss?” He stares at his wife in disbelief, “Did you know about this?”

Caroline chews on her lip, “ _Maybe_.”

_HOLY SHIT._

“Alright keep it in your pants, shipper boy,” Damon chuckles, slapping him on the back. “I’m starving. Drive thru?”

Stefan’s head shakes, struggling to process. “So, you’ve been together this whole week?”

Bonnie shuffles in after Damon, the pair occupying the back seats like a couple of teenagers in an Uber. “Since you showed me the diary. I called him-”

“Understatement,” the vampire interrupts. You called about twenty times.”

“Four. I called _four_ times.”

Still a little startled, Stefan clambers into the car, Caroline following suit. Bamon (because it’s _canon_ now and his heart is practically doing Fortnite dances) continue their bickering.

“Ohhh, don’t try me Bon-bon. I have the receipts.”

“ _Receipts_? What are you? Sixteen?”

“You’re just embarrassed that you were _so_ desperate to confess your love for me.”

“Excuse me? You literally came to my door with a bouquet of flowers.”

“That’s romantic!”

“It’s cheesy.”

“Ro-fucking-mantic.”

Stefan shifts the car into gear and looks at his wife. She raises both eyebrows: “Married.”

The car lurches forward; in the reflection, Bonnie rolls her eyes.

“A.F.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done! As much as I am very sad to see this story end, it’s so satisfying to finish another fic for my favourite couple. Writing comedy is something I’ve never tried before but wow, was it enjoyable. Stefan the Bamon Shipper will always have a special place in my heart… 
> 
> Stay tuned for a Crack fic of one-shots featuring shipping Stefan and the gang (Miss Cuddles and Silus included). We all need some comic relief time to time. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought – thank you again for all the wonderful support. 
> 
> P.S. a) follow me on tumblr perpetualimaginings *there is also a link there if you want to support my writing but of course, not pressure* and b) if any of you talented artists want to make a cover for this story then I would eternally grateful :’)


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